Human Decomposition
by Devin Trinidad
Summary: There are five stages of decomposition for the human body. Robbie might be living through one of them.
1. Fresh

Robbie was many things. He was a teenager, he was clearly male, and he was a rebel at heart. (No pun intended.) If there was one thing that he could be classified an expert at, it was the fact that he knew the three main goals of embalming a dead body: sanitization, presentation, and preservation. Resignedly, he concluded that it was a bit weird that he had this talent, but he decided not to dwell on it. He made his place in the world and he didn't want to be known as a philosopher who had far too much time on his hands to be thinking about morbid details concerning death…or the fact that his parents were total nutcases, for that matter. Besides, it wasn't like he could help his position anyway; he was born as the son of two wacky funeral directors and was likely to inherit the family business.

In fact, Robbie had a sneaking suspicion that there was something more to their chosen vocation than what they were telling him. Oh sure, they enjoyed it: the ordering of the coffin, the digging of the grave, attending funerals. Oh yeah, they had to drag him along most of the time too! In fact, the teen thought that the reason why his parents were total crazies was because he thought that they were exiled from their family or something for being too cheerful. There had to be a reason why he never met his grandparents or left town for that matter.

So one can imagine his surprise when he realized that his parents were housing some long last relative.

"Right," the brunette drawled when his parents told him about the newcomer out of the blue. He gave a slightly weirded, slightly apathetic expression at the man all dressed in grey and black. Gee, were all his blood relations this creepy? "You want me to be on my best behavior for this guy?" It had been meant to be a whisper or something softly spoken, but his raspy voice and generally dismissive attitude towards authority made it seem that he wanted to announce to the world that he wanted to babysit this weirdo. (Just in case you haven't noticed, that was all sarcasm.)

"Robbie!" Both of his parents yelled in unison. They glared at their wayward son collectively for a second before they turned to their long lost…uncle or something. At that point, Robbie didn't care for the consequences or what his relative thought of him. For one, his parents always reverted back to their sunny dispositions. For two, this guy had this supernatural vibe that was dripping off him like melted butter.

"We definitely did not teach you to behave like that," his mother groaned.

However, the slight deviation from her usual demeanor slowly morphed back into an easygoing grin. Robbie almost banged his face on a nearby wall as he saw that his mother turn away from him and gesture towards their 'highly esteemed guest.' Robbie may not have been a model student at school, but he was pretty sure that 'highly esteemed' didn't mean ratty clothes and a sickening grin that could raise the dead. (He knew where he was coming from when he thought that. The dude was a total creeper, as Tambry would have put it.)

Their estranged relative laughed ominously as his hands seemed to grow a mind of their own, fluttering about like prisoners wailing for freedom. If Robbie didn't have a reputation to keep, he would have gulped at the sight of the overly long and sharp nails. The way that they seemed to catch the light even when they appeared old and dull caught the teen's attention. For a split second, those nails seemed to elongate and sharpen, appearing as if they were the claws of some long forgotten creature. The young Valentino would have lied if he said that he didn't want to spend some quality at the bottom of a grave somewhere. And what was up with the bangs that covered up his face! It looked like he was a girl!

…But dangerous. Like he was hiding something.

"Children will remain children, like dogs are conditioned to slobber over meat," the strange relative cackled. The high keening wails pierced Robbie's ears like the man had taken a chalkboard and began to play it like a whiny love song. Had this man no sense of propriety? Robbie may have been a terrible person, but this was common courtesy! No one should be this upbeat and exuberant at a funeral home.

"Oh! I agree with that philosophy," Robbie's father helpfully chimed in. "Ya'know, I think there's some old baby pictures of Rob—"

"Dad, I get it," the dark haired teen groused loudly. The sooner he showed this lunatic the layout of the town, the sooner he could go back to being a regular guy. "Show mister-what's-his-face around town and be back home for dinner. Let's go." The last part had been directed at his so-called relative before he stalked out to the front porch. Yeesh, some people were way too happy for their own good. Behind him, he heard the hastily mumbled apologies to make up for his less than ideal behavior, but the visitor inside just took it all in stride. Robbie, while a little touched that this person seemed to be okay with his brattish attitude, was still wary about this trashy figure. He reminded him of Old Man McGucket.

As Robbie stared out into the wooded areas of Gravity Falls, he failed to realize that be was being intently observed by one particular person. He was so engrossed of thinking of his new girlfriend Tambry that he didn't realize that his relative (Uncle? Cousin? Grandpa?) was inching closer and closer to him. It was a textbook example of a predator going after easy prey in the middle of the day…

Three…

Two…

One…

"Aah!" Robbie flailed about as he fell over the railing on his porch. He had been touched on the back of his neck by—

"You!" Huffing loudly with embarrassment and a healthy dollop of anger, Robbie hastily jumped up to his feet and stomped over to the porch. He had been planning to give the man a piece of his mind, but there was something slightly _dangerous _that he detected…something not quite right…until the whole moment was ruined when the man snapped his spindly fingers in front of Robbie's face, like the teen was a dog and the older man the owner. Grabbing senses, Robbie began to shout, "Why did you do that for? Do you always—"

"Do you always behave like you're about to die of a heart attack?" The white haired gentleman, with the hair that could rival McGucket's, smiled thinly at the teen. His spindly fingers played with the hems of his sleeves, his hair seemed to tangle itself in the wind, and something _green _glinted underneath the fog of his bangs. Again, Robbie had the urge to run away as fast he could, but he didn't want to do that.

No way.

He wasn't like that stupid kid.

"Do you always invade people's private space?" Robbie tried his best to counter. His cool kid façade that he usually maintained in front of others was cracking and his fear of this guy seemed to encourage the process. Gosh darn it, he was supposed to give a quick tour for this stupid old guy and he was still on the front porch. Not cool, and he was definitely wasting time.

"Why, of course I have!" The older man squealed happily. "Dead people don't respond much to my advances, but I must say," the man's teeth seemed to shine eerily bright at his next few words, "their bodies are so pliable…and they comply with my every demand!"

The man sobered for a second, allowing Robbie to process the new information in his teenage brain. He was not a slow learner. In fact, one could even say that he was a bright kid with a penchant for getting into trouble and messing with the 'in crowd,' but there was something blocking his brain that wouldn't allow him to start processing his relative's slightly _weird _statement regarding dead people. Even his parents weren't this crazy over post-mortem bodies!

Wait.

Did that mean.

No.

He didn't want to process this.

No, he was going to let his brain shut down for this little but.

No.

No.

NO.

He was definitely not a descendant of a long line of funeral directors. That would be so uncool. And creepy. But mostly uncool. What would Tambry think?

"They also don't say no when I—Hmm?" The white haired man finally ground to a halt in his reverie of times gone by when he heard the porch slam shut. Due to his advanced hearing, he could hear the youngling inside complaining that he was creepy and that he would not take part in showing him around town. The white haired male smiled to himself at those words. The kid had spirit and pride. All he needed was some motivation, the realization of his potential, and finally…a mentor.

"It's a good thing I finally found you Robert Stacy Valentino…who knows what a demon could do with a human heart of a reaper."

The man watched the woods silently, as if gauging the ferocity of the peaceful woods. And then, quite suddenly…

He laughed.

"Ahahaha! Stacy! What a fine middle name! Name of an obedient dog, of a churlish teenager, and the name of a price well paid!" His parents made a fine choice when he called him. If they hadn't, who knows what would have happened to the youngling!

Out in the woods, a snappy dressed demon stiffened.


	2. Putrefaction

This was not meant to happen. At all.

When Robbie had awakened in his bedroom, he didn't have the slightest clue where he was. For a few seconds, he thought that he had been kidnapped, taken away from his childhood, and kept in some twisted torture chamber. However, as his eyes adjusted to the cruel lighting of where he lay, that's when he came to the startling conclusion that he was in his room. His room. However, it was BRIGHTLY LIT.

Rule number one when dealing with an angsty teenager with attachment issues, do not mess with his interior lighting. For one, he was still quite groggy from his beauty sleep. For two, this was his room! No one, and I mean no one, had the right to turn up that light switch. Not even that poorly dressed weirdo had that clearance…who just happened to be cackling in the corner like a madman.

"What are you still doing here!" Robbie screamed. Quickly, he burst from the safety of his covers and brandished a guitar that he had been laying on the floor. While he was scrawny and not well versed in combat, he still estimated that he could bash in the guy's head before anything bad could happen to him. Of course, when he swung his guitar, he clearly underestimated his relative's surprisingly fast reflexes or the fact that this guy had secret teleportation powers.

He must have.

Seriously.

One second, the guy in the gothic clothing had been doubled over psychotically laughing. And the next second, it appeared as if Robbie had been aiming for the air the entire time. With a whoosh and a clang, the teenager realized that he hit nothing but air, but on descent, he had pretty much rendered his instrument useless. The impact the guitar had on the ground was near astounding in the fact that guitar pretty much flew into pieces at the force. In summary, Robbie found himself staring at a pile of wood and strings that used to play the sweetest of melodies.

Great.

"Looks like the Little Dog," because that was now Robbie's newly christened name, "finally has woken up." The man observed from the safe vantage point _behind_ the teenager. The newcomer couldn't help but release a maniacal grin when he heard a tiny squeak fall out of Robbie's mouth in an undignified manner. However, much as he would like to continue to entertain himself by tormenting the youngling, there were many things to do. Newbies to train, 'guests' to decorate, and of course, he had to 'kill time.' The lean man found himself shaking his head sadly. How sad; he would have liked to see the young lad squeal in pain for a bit longer. "Come now, my dearly departed relative," he gestured gaily to the door, "we have a whole day to ourselves!"

Instantly, Robbie moved away from the man like he was an infected patient with some sort of contagious disease. He may not be able to stay away from the creep when he was at home, but he could sure as heck stay away from him when he's with his friends. However, it appeared that the man knew what he was thinking. With a vice like grip that Robbie was sure was not human, the older man dragged him forcefully out of his room and plunked him onto the kitchen table. Unsurprisingly, the table was built so that it looked like it encased a dead person under a thin protection of glass. Like always, it appeared that the decomposition process was still underway, but Robbie knew that this was just a ploy to get people freaked inside the funeral home. It was just a mannequin that happened to catch his parent's fancy a few years back. Unfortunately, not many people knew that secret.

"Ah, I do love what your parents do to your guests. They are simply divine!" The man breathed in exhilaration! The man's pale fingers reverently caressed the glass, as if trying to see if he could wake the man up by just being creepy. Unfortunately, for the teen, all that he saw was a horribly dressed old man who looked like he was trying to recreate a scene from a Disney classic.

It was that disturbing

"Look, you old geezer, I don't know where you came from, but over here we don't call the dead, guests," Robbie enunciated, like he was trying to talk some common sense into a young child. "Frankly, it's kind of disturbing and I won't stand for it."

"Little Dog, I don't see how you won't stand for anything because you're already sitting," the older man chuckled. The stranger pulled up a chair so that he could view the 'guest' without straining his body. Unbeknownst to him, the young lad was secretly stewing over how nonchalantly he had insulted him yet _again_. There was also the glaring fact that he was still angered by his instrument's sudden annihilation.

Because the white haired man did not wish to pay attention to him (how in the world is a dead body more interesting than him?) Robbie felt that it was his duty to snap him out of the cuckoo land.

"Look, old man, stop calling me a dog. The name is Robbie. Ro-bbie," the young man announced sullenly. The young man's glare was rendered useless when he realized that the man just stared at him, a cruel grin on his lips. Instead of storming out of the room to get away from this creature that happened to wear the costume of a human, Robbie felt that he should stand his ground. That, in itself, was highly unusual and in direct conflict of his cowardly personality.

Faintly, Robbie felt that he was getting the soul sucked out of him. It felt like his breath was slowly leaving him, similar to how a person would feel after spending an imaginable amount of time underwater. His heart, which he was sure didn't sound this loud in his ears, felt like it was beating slower…and slower…and slower… His eyes began to droop and he distantly registered the pain of having his head fall onto the table's cold glass. The last thing that he could detect was the feeling of a rough claws pushing away the hair and sweat from his forehead.

"Little dogs like you should not talk back to your master that way!" The older man sang.

Robbie stared in sick horror as he watched his stupid relative swing around a scythe. It wasn't the type that someone would find in the Summerween store. It didn't even look like it came from a store for that matter! The blade was thick and made of steel; the metal glinted with a bloodthirsty grin. The handle was long and sturdy and grooves were already made in the bar, as if handled fondly for many, many years. Robbie would have probably been squealing at the awesomeness of the sight (testosterone would do that to you) but he couldn't bring himself to do that because the creepy old man was the one who was currently swinging it at him.

"Dude! My parents are going to sue you if I get hit and die!" He huffed and panted with long laborious breaths as he tried in vain to get away from the reach of the unwieldy weapon. Because of his customary dark clothing and the fact that the sun was beating down on him like there was no tomorrow, he was officially soaked and irritable. "Why are you doing this? Was it because I gave you a terrible tour of town the other day?"

Without any ever effort, the white haired man replied, "Little Dog, if I were to hurt you, I would have done so back when you were a wee thing."

Robbie, while flushed and panting from the strenuous activities, found that was he was paling in fear. This guy knew him when he was a baby? The teen could barely imagine his relation as a younger man, or aging at all. A mental block had erected itself in the midst of his mind, prohibiting him from trying to entertain the thought further. Come to think of it, who was the old geezer related to? Unfortunately, before he could put a voice to those words, the teen managed to trip on a branch. Comically, he began somersaulting out of control. Another bad thing: the only protection he had against the elements was the Goth clothing on his back.

When he had finally managed to stop falling like a stupid cartoon character, he fell on his back. Even though his instincts told him to run as fast as he can, the teenager felt that it was far more prudent to stay still and take on threats of disrupting his rest with flying fists.

As the cool air underneath the shade embraced the flushed expanse of his pale, pimpled skin, the crackling of the underbrush broke through the momentary silence. Warily, Robbie sucked in a tight breath. He already knew that his brief respite was going to be rudely interrupted. What a pity, he thought moodily. I really was getting used to the little rocks and roots digging into my back.

"Little Dog, you're breaking my heart!" Robbie yelped when he felt the cool metal press into the vulnerable flesh of his beck. A booted foot also stepped onto his thin chest to smother the breath out of him. Coincidentally, the elder male was stepping on the sewn heart of his hoodie. (Knowing the older man, he was probably doing it for the giggles.) "We wouldn't want that, now would we?"

With a ton of effort that one shouldn't exert on summer vacation, Robbie managed to respond through gritted teeth.

"Not sure how to respond other than to just to stare uncomprehendingly at the sky." The young man gritted his teeth because the feeling of getting suffocated was not abating. "As long as _your_ heart is the one breaking, I wouldn't mind the world so much."

The pale figure in the dark clothing merely chuckled before taking his boot off of the American lad. Just when Robbie was going to consider making a dash for it, the newcomer to Gravity Falls sat on top of his chest, pinning him to the ground again. It was at that moment that alarm bells began to resound in his head.

"I don't think you know who you are dealing with," the man murmured sweetly. Precariously, he held his scythe in one of his pale, spindly fingers. Tight tendrils of ice slithered down Robbie's spine as he saw how close he could be to becoming one of his parent's little 'pet projects.' He may have grown up in a funeral home, but he was still a bit sickened by the presence of death. "Does the Little Dog want to know?"

Tiny droplets of ice cold sweat covered Robbie's forehead. He could actually feel the perspiration dripping away from the spots on his forehead and pooling into the thick mass of his hair. His breath, already short, was slowly becoming shallower and shallower by the continued weight of the man on top of him. Given time, Robbie knew that one of two things would happen. One, his stupid relative would tire of this petty little 'bonding family time.' Or two, which seemed all the more likely, was that the man would continue to remain seated on top of the teen until he passed out from lightheadedness and the heat.

"The Little Dog would like for you to get up," Robbie muttered in short, spastic little taunts. He had long since tired from retorting that he wasn't a dog or some other rodent. His face, usually so pale and indifferent was red from the near absence of oxygen and shame. Never before had he been bullied to thist startling degree. "Besides," he huffed angrily, "what's so special about you?"

"Because, my dear little blood relation…I'm a Grim Reaper."

* * *

"Question me this, question me that! What would the demon do with a boy in a hat?"

The yellow phantom floated in front of the sleeping boy, his eye wrinkling in disguised glee. Did the little boy know how much power he had given him? How he should have looked at the fine print when he had the chance? Nopity nope! Poor little Pine Tree, he really should have been a touch more paranoid to make sure that things would be all right! Of course, not all things were going great for Bill.

Ever since that grim reaper had come into town, things had become far more hectic. For reasons that the dream demon could not fathom, the deathly being had went through the trouble of spray-painting all of his little 'eyes' in the town area. While Bill could care less about the people of Gravity Falls, he was a bit miffed that his territory was being tampered with. I mean would you let someone you have never met mess with your belongings? Didn't think so. It was a good thing that this mysterious little being hadn't learned of the whereabouts about the Mystery Shack yet.

It was also a good thing that this little meat-sack was actually getting some sleep. Slowly, the demon slipped silently into the boy's young body. Before, he could assert himself among the boy's mental controls, he made sure that the boy was secure in his mindscape. Apparently, Pine Tree liked to dream about that redheaded cashier girl. How scandalous!

"Pine Tree gone and the Grim's to fear, but never fret!" He said to himself once he got himself reacquainted with the real estate that he just happed to reacquire. "The dream demon is here!"

* * *

Mabel had opened up her eyes. She had no idea why she had just started to wake up at that moment, but her sibling senses were tingling like crazy! With practiced ease, she turned to her side to check up on her dork of a brother, before she frowned. She took in the sight of the ruffled covers and the lack of shoes that Dipper usually left underneath the bed. That was weird, she thought. Maybe he was in the bathroom.

She was about to burrow herself back into the covers when she heard a peculiar noise. It sounded like someone was trying to hack upon the door with multiple body parts. Or, for a better analogy, it sounded like someone was bashing the door open with by ramming a head against the doorknob. Ouch. Did Dipper eat some of her Smile Dip? The young girl got out of her bed and grabbed her grappling hook.

This better be something paranormal related or she was going to restrain her bro-bro to the bed if need be.

She crept down the stairs and followed after the possessed body.

Yep, there better be a great reason why her brother didn't bother to tell her about some nighttime romp.


	3. Active Decay

"What do you mean, you old fart?" With a strength that could only be conjured in the direst of circumstances, the moody teen managed to kick the supposed 'Grim Reaper' away from his chest. The effort took its toll on his breathing, however. Needless to say, it was more than apparent that he needed to spend more time exercising than pining over the latest teenage trends. "It's bad enough with all of my family's puns with death and all that, but do you have to joke about it too?" Robbie yelled out his questions as if combining his anger with pointless inquiries would offer compensation for the strange twist in events.

Instead of running from the situation, he opted to stand his ground. The teen was still winded from the man's weight being pressed atop his chest. However, the silver haired lunatic looked at the young teen with a look akin to bemusement. Really now, did the Little Dog really think that he would able to intimidate him? He? The Master of Death and Reaper of Souls? It would seem that the Little Dog needed a listen on how to mind his betters.

With a patronizing tone, the Undertaker reiterated his words.

"I said, if you might recall, that I am a Grim Reaper. The taker of souls. The embodiment of Death." The old man stepped forward until he was toe to toe with the young lad. Although the silver haired gentleman was still disdainful of the little brat, he had to hand it to him. Determination and bravery underneath a mask of stupidity were good qualities for this inherited occupation. It might just be the only thing that was stopping Death from finally ending him. "Or do I have to repeat myself again?"

"I don't know, man. I think I am going to have to take you away to the funny farm," Robbie muttered. Shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets, the black haired teen pretended not to notice how the lunatic blatantly invaded his personal bubble. "If you want to make fun of the funeral home, be my guest. It's not like I care!"

Oh yes, he did care. He cared so much that he wanted this guy to be out of his life and somewhere else…preferably somewhere far away so he wouldn't have to deal with all this hullaballoo.

"The not caring on your part seems to be bordering on near hatred." The Undertaker idly mused. He took a few steps forward, farther and deeper into Robbie's useless bubble of protection. Seeing the scandalized look on the lad's face was refreshing and it only served as motivation for him to carry on. "But do keep it up! I heard that negative emotions impact your health to the point where it could be the deciding factor between a long life and a stone's throw away from death!"

Was that a joke? Was the guy even trying to be funny? At this rate, Robbie could have sworn he heard crickets chirping merrily in the background, but he refused to admit to that false stimulus. It was better to not give the guy even more verbal and psychological ammunition to lob at him.

"At least tell me why you continue to be so creepy." Just when the Undertaker was about to obligingly answer the kid, Robbie thought for a second before he blurted, "And don't you dare say things that are completely messed up! I have had enough of your insults."

The man burst out laughing at the teen's description of his comebacks and puns. Geeze, the Little Dog not only needed a lesson on manners, but he also needed to learn that laughter was essential in order to live a long and healthful life. No wonder the redheaded lumberjack no longer looked his way! The kid was a total downer even when he wasn't reeking of Death's odor.

"Unfortunately for you, my sense of the norm is not completely in line with yours."

"Joy, but please do enlighten me," Robbie gritted out. "And if you can, please make sure that it makes somewhat sense." Robbie mentally added, and please make sure that I don't automatically get called into the crazy bin for listening to your nonsense.

With a flourish of the top hat on top of the man's head, he began to speak in a rapid voice.

"Dearest Little Dog, my name is the Undertaker and I'm a Grim Reaper. I have been for quite some time now. You see, I used to work in the London Branch until I quit. Then I sort of had this run in with a few underground associates before I cast my eyes towards zombification and prolonging the effects of life even after death. After I got caught, I went missing and voila! I am here before you!" He comically waved his hands about as if they were his 'jazz hands.'

The teen silently looked at the Undertaker with a look akin to someone who was witnessing the end of the world before realizing that it wasn't. Therefore, his face was pure deadpan un-amusement. Despite the lengthy silence between the two people, Undertaker smiled widely at the young man before pinching Robbie's cheeks.

As the teen spluttered and batted at the Undertaker in indignation, the silver haired man rebuked him by saying, "That's the cue for you to smile and laugh." The grin on the man's face widened like was going to say the punchline to the greatest joke in the universe. Knowing the Undertaker, it very well could be. "If it weren't for laughter, you would have never been born."

What the heck did that mea—OH.

OH.

Why? Just why?

Once the meaning of the statement finally decoded itself in his brain, the teen backed away from the Undertaker's claws.

"Disgusting man! I do not want to know how my parents conceived me," the young Valentino yelped. Still, as he continued to back away from the man, the Undertaker just continued to step forward as well. As a result, their awkward—if not, deadly—interaction could be perceived as this awkward little dance that only the Undertaker had perfected beforehand.

"Aw, conception," the Undertaker breathed nostalgically. "The miracles of life and after a while…death. But, we are not here to talk about your parents' sexual habits; we're here because I want to make you my apprentice."

Robbie's eyes widened at that. Before the Undertaker could get another word into the conversation, the Goth teen swiveled on his heel and strode away from the crazed lunatic.

This was what he was talking about. Even though he was a teenager, that didn't give people the right to automatically make fun of him! Robbie was tired of getting the short end of things, from getting in trouble because he was loitering around different areas, to wearing clothing that reflected his inner nature. What was wrong with people to think that teenagers were like a whole different species or something?

Teenagers were just filled with tons of new hormones that just happened to impair their ability to think.

Teenagers weren't stupid, it was just the stereotype that was giving them a bad name.

But, of course, sometimes stereotypes were based on cold hard fact.

A single thought raced through his mind like a slight breeze on a normally warm summer day.

What if he was treating the old man a bit too harshly?

As the thought ate at him, Robbie found that he was getting a little bit guilty over his little outburst. Did the weird guy warrant that kind of explosion from him? At times, maybe. But, he could just be seeking attention and he might actually be a nice guy. However, that didn't mean that Robbie was going to stand down and let this guy walk all over him. There was a difference between showing respect and bowing down to cowardice. Robbie was keen enough to walk away from the situation before he had to choose between the two.

Suddenly, without any outward sign of his appearance, his superior managed to morph right in front of him! Robbie considered on barreling past the deranged man, but he didn't trust that the scythe would miss him. In fact, from the many demonstrations that the old man had kindly shown him, he was quite adept with swinging that weapon around. The Undertaker even mastered the art of looking menacing as he did so.

"Dude! Fine, I'll listen to you, but I am definitely not going to be your apprentice!" Robbie scowled as he found himself saying those words. It physically pained him to say that because he really didn't want to deal with all of this stupid boloney. In fact, all of this thoughtless nonsense felt oddly similar to how that dumb brat always talked about the supernatural…Nah, it's probably coincidence or something like that. "And you better not swing that scythe-y thing at me while you're at it!"

Again, that horrible raucous laughter echoed within the trees and startled the animals in the forest. It was like the scent of death finally heightened so much that, Robbie finally felt the sense that it was slowly getting colder…and colder…

And the dreadful, old man was towering over him silently. Had he always been there?

"My, my Little Dog, you can be quite the coward. Then again, what else did I expect from an American?" The man shrugged good-naturedly as the young man looked on in disgust. The rude slur at his country was not something he would normally tolerate. "Alas, if it were up to me, I would have chosen someone better to carry on my legacy."

"Your legacy? What does that have to do with me?"

"Isn't it obvious? I want you to carry on my duties as Grim Reaper because I'm—"

* * *

Gravity Falls was many things. It was a tourist trap, a sleepy town, and a beacon for all things supernatural and paranormal. This was where things bumped in the night and hibernated during the day. It was a petty little gem in the midst of other valuable jewels, but the people who lived there thrived in the lazy atmosphere. But you know who loved the town even more?

Bill Cipher.

He loved how the people deluded themselves into forgetting their past regrets and everyday stresses. He loved the people—or more specifically, the kids—who think that they could outsmart him. He was privy to the many times young men and women alike would try and solve the mysteries that haunted the town. He saw how much the knowledge that they had managed to uncover slowly became their drug, their addiction, and finally… their death warrant. But most of all, he loved how naïve and innocent the poor little humans were when compared to him and his omnipotence. He loved that even when they thought that they were on top of his little game, they were still pawns who may have been brash and unwieldy at times, were still just that.

Pawns.

"But you just had to come in here and ruin all of that, didn't you?" The yellow demon within the child pondered aloud.

No one answered in the midst midnight. Having been accustomed to this universe's lack of response, Bill Cipher merely chuckled at the lack of applause.

"Bet you were jealous that I have this place under my thumb!"

Suddenly, the sound of something whistling filled the air. It wasn't a bird that was singing. Oh, no. It was like an object, thin and long was racing straight towards him. Out of pure instinct, the dream demon had dodged the assault and launched himself out of the way. Before he could utter a one liner, he found himself dodging attack after attack. During the assault, he caught wind of silvery white hair, the dangerous blade of glinting metal, and emerald fire seething within the holes where eyes should be.

"Speak of the devil and he shall appear." Bill quoted. He thought it fit. A tad bit ironic, but it was the humor that counted.

The man with the scythe chuckled darkly at the floating triangle.

"Coming out of your mouth, I feel like the joke would have been redundant. Wouldn't you agree?"

Bill shook his head as he finally realized that the creature before him was resting after the continuous melee of stabbing. It was a welcome change of pace. Normally, Bill would have let the man swing his scythe straight through the body just to feel the pleasure of pain, but he didn't fancy the idea of Pine Tree waking up and nagging at him. It wasn't like the suit of meat was worth much…

"Come on old man! I bet you had your fair share of past misdeeds," Bill saluted at the man's scythe in recognition. "Besides, who would go after a cute little kid like this one?" He pointed at himself in a cute manner before exclaiming in faux surprise. "Oh right! You!"

The Undertaker grinned under his silvery bangs. Although the insults were more than a little heavy handed, he had to give it to the annoying little demon… got a good sense of taste, that one. However, he wasn't going to let that snub go. Like a presumptuous little student, that little demon was going to learn a lesson.

"Ah, but cute no longer applies when you taint the body with ghastly looking scars," the Undertaker pointed out coolly. In a practiced action, he placed the metal side of the scythe on the ground as he leaned on the staff in a lackadaisical pose. If it weren't for the ominous lighting and the gleaming of the bloodthirsty metal the Undertaker appeared as if he was talking to an old friend. Despite that cool façade of casualness, he was still on high alert and wary of the demon's intentions.

"Really now? I was under the impression that you liked seeing the dead with a few blemishes here and there. Rather hypocritical, don't you think?"

"Only when a demon taints the living and the dead do I object."

"Ah, and there's the kicker. My deathly friend, might I suggest you get yourself a new calendar? Holding grudges against demons is so last century." The demon in the young boy's body stretched the last few syllables of his last statement. The sound of stretched syllables was annoying, but the Undertaker refused to reveal any sign of discomfort. Knowing that he was probably going to be on the business end of that blasted scythe, Bill continued on with his jovial tone of voice. "Besides, I'm a dream demon! I have no need for souls!"

"Too true. But, I suggest—what do you Americans say?" The Undertaker thought for a moment before he smiled evilly at the smaller being. "Ah, yes! I suggest that you hit the road while I am still here. I have some big plans for someone and I don't need you to interfere."

The young boy's eyes seemed to glow with an unnatural shade of red as he stare up at the white haired man. Anger seemed to radiate off his skin in waves of invisible air and static electricity. Undeterred by this subtle display of power, the Undertaker simply decided not to point it out. Simply put, Bill Cipher was like an inferno just waiting to boil over and burn the poor fool who tempted him.

"I don't know about you, but your presence is interfering with _my_ plans," Bill retorted. His eyes narrowed in distrust for a second before widening in apprehension. "You're not going to kick me out are you? Your power seems a bit weak, almost as if you're dying…." Bill had meant to poke fun at the Undertaker's haggard appearance and white hair, but he did not expect the next few seconds to occur as it had.

For a split second, a ferocious snarl was on the Undertaker's lips as he stared down at the impudent little demon in the preteen's body. It was a terrifying sight if one was not accustomed to such gory details in day to day life. Bill, since he was a demon for who knows how long, merely grinned at the man's response. He had seen scarier, but the effort was mildly impressive. As for the man in pitch black, he was more than willing to kill the poor foolish demon.

So, the demon thought hungrily. It appears that having depth perception is a great asset to have. I really love this body!

"Watch your tongue before I cut it out for you."

"Really now? What makes you think that I won't enjoy it? After all," Bill flashed his dull white teeth in front of the Reaper, "pain is hilarious."

At that, the Undertaker nearly swooned from the laughter that was about to consume him because this was all plain ridiculous.

"Your warped sense of humor is so amusing, I can almost tolerate your foul presence, Dream Demon," the Undertaker remarked after he nearly doubled over from the pain of withholding all of his laughter. His teeth, dull and yet gleaming, shone underneath the mass of his bangs. However, like most things, his laughter died down and then he proceeded to on the stance of a predator just waiting for the right moment to strike. How dare this impudent little beast mock him! The Undertaker thought.

He was going to eliminate this disgrace from the world.

True, it had been many years since he had squared off against a foe as powerful as this warped abomination, but he is still the strongest Reaper. That title didn't just fall into his lap. He earned it.

"I suggest you leave."

The demon within the boy's body merely swapped his small smile in favor for something far bolder. His lips widened and stretched almost comically, but gruesomely in front of the reaper.

"Your words may seem like they serve some higher purpose, but you don't scare me!" The possessed boy let out a harsh chuckle as he neared the Undertaker. Unperturbed, the older gentleman let him approach. However, there was a sense of militarism as he stood up to his full height and as he fingered the handle of his scythe. "You just practically admitted that you are dying! I wonder…"

And the Undertaker couldn't help but ask that one dreaded question, "You wonder what, Demon?"

"I wonder if I should speed up the process!"

Before the Undertaker could say another word, a scream filled the darkness and a young girl fell from the sky.

* * *

"Let me get this straight. You're the Grim Reaper, I'm connected to you in some way (I'm your legacy or something?), and you expect me to follow in your footsteps?" The incredulous tone of a non-believer fell out of the teen's mouth at a rapid pace. It was as if each word was like the first few gunshots of a rifle, but as he continued speaking, it went faster and faster until his voice shot out words like a machine gun. The Undertaker was mildly impressed. "Why me? Why not that little twerp in the Mystery Shack?"

At that, the mortician answered.

"The little boy with the pine tree on his head…. He has some other supernatural being snapping at his heels…" The look of horror passed briefly on Robbie's face as he continued to scowl at his relative. What did that mean?

"You still haven't told me why I have to do this! Why are you still avoiding the question?" Robbie roared.

"Because my dear Little Dog, you might not like what you hear."

"I'm already mad at you, what more could I possibly do? Explode into a billion little fleshy pieces?"

* * *

The moon was still high in the sky and the residents of Gravity Falls were still sleeping in their comfy beds. It would have been a terrific night for just wandering about in the woods committing a robbery or two, vandalizing people's houses, etc. etc. However, that was far from Mabel's mind. Instead of thinking of how romantic the night felt and how she would have envisioned kissing someone under the moonlight, her heart raced at the thought of her brother going out into the forest late at night. Although she didn't look at the clock in order to check the time, she knew that this was later than usual.

Sometimes, Dipper would get out bed to get a drink of water or do his business in the bathroom, but the way he hopped out of bed…it just seemed urgent. His gait felt off, the little grunts of grogginess weren't there, and was it just her or did he slide down the stairs? And of course, there was the fact that her brother seemed to not care for the door's welfare as he banged it repeatedly. Her thoughts would take a sudden turn of betrayal as she heard the hinges of the front door get pushed open.

Her twin always notified her when he was going out to capture some wild beast, exorcise some ghosts, or whatnot. Even when her mind was off somewhere else, she always wanted to know and she always listened to his ramblings about the supernatural. That's what siblings are supposed to do! It was practically expected of him since they were twins! As she thought more and more about Dipper's odd behavior, she began to realize something. Dipper wouldn't change.

No.

Not right now.

He was still her Bro-Bro. He was still socially awkward around girls.

And he was still a devoted little nerd who always made sure that his big sister was there to help him out.

That wasn't Dipper in there.

Nope.

As she took off into the forest, Mabel realized that she was going to get into some serious trouble. The grim smile on her face foreshadowed her anticipation to whatever supernatural creature dared come between her and her brother. She was going to get to the bottom of this, no matter what.

It was one in the morning on the sleepy date of July 1st.

* * *

There have been many legends concerning the tales of good and evil. Of death and the apocalypse. Of forbidden deals and ancient spells. Many of these may prove to be archaic and foolish in today's standards, but they still hold value in the modern day world. The bogeyman became the monsters who haunted the alleyways and street corners in the middle of the night, the lesser demons became the drug dealers who took away your soul the more you bought off their wares, and Robbie soon learned that Reapers (AKA, his relative) haunted the pathways to hospitals, funeral, and the like. In short, he was a monster—a far more gruesome thing than a teenager.

Sometimes these monsters need to have a backup plan. Sometimes, these monsters realize that one day, real soon, they're going to take their final breath and it would be good-bye to the rest of the world. Not many monsters or supernatural creatures realize that—most thought that they were invincible—but the Undertaker was more than familiar with the process of death. He was the one who used his scythe to cut through the memories of the dying. After many years on the run from many Death Reaper organizations all over the world, he found that it was high time to hang up his cloak, his scythe, and finally retire from immortality.

And that is where Robbie finally came into the picture.

"And now that I am dying, I have chosen you to take up the mantle! Isn't that exciting?"

If Robbie was a teenager who was in love with action, violence, and gore, he would have immediately said yes. However, he was a kid ith so much anger issues that he wanted to air to the world. Instead, he just looked up at the silver haired lunatic with the scythe before speaking up once more.

"Theoretically, if I were to take up your mantle…how would you go about doing it?"

"Good question." The Undertaker approved heartily. "I don't."

The scythe, always gleaming and always hungry for even more human souls to feast on passed quickly through the teen's chest. The sound of a body falling on the ground was immediately muted by the sound of raucous laughter.

It was two in the afternoon on June 30th.


	4. Advanced Decay

Robert Stacey Valentino was not easily frightened.

After living with parents who just happened to be overly happy with death, living in the supernatural aura of Gravity Falls, etc., it was safe to say that Robbie was pretty much desensitized to it all. That is, until he met the craziness that embodied the entire being that was the Undertaker. When he saw the threatening scythe fall slice through the air like melted butter, his mouth fell open as he let out a tremendous scream. As the glinting metal neared its target, Robbie intuitively knew.

Robbie knew that this was the end.

He was going to die all by himself in the creepy area of the Gravity Falls woods. The only person accompanying him was a serial killer with a creepy obsession with Grim Reaper lore and a weird fashion sense. As a son of funeral directors, he can easily say without remorse that this was complete overkill to murder someone. Can things get any worse?

Finally, the metal made contact with Robbie's midsection and his world ceased to exist. All he could feel was the intrusion of an unfamiliar object cut through his insides.

Pain.

Pain.

Red.

Hot.

Scorching.

_**PAIN.**_

As the pain worsened and deepened within his abdomen, Robbie belatedly felt his eyes close. He may have been incorrigible teenager at best when he was alive, but now he was dying. The least that the lunatic could do when he was murdering him was to honor his last wish. Robbie, without much thought to how he looked, desperately bellowed—no, screamed—at the Undertaker.

"Please," Robbie gasped within the darkness of the self-consuming _**PAIN**_, "just make it quick…make it quick!"

Robbie was about to scream again, but he was suddenly interrupted by a new voice.

"Make what quick?"

Was that… a British accent?

Gasping, Robbie opened up his eyes only to be faced with a pair of sparkling emeralds. Where did they come—?

"Generally, I know I'm pretty dashing, or hot as you Americans might say, but I don't really bat for the other team," the pair of emeralds snarked. The blond shook his head at the teen's gaping mouth before holding out a hand to help him out form the floor.

Despite the act of goodwill, Robbie refused the hand and stepped back. Warily, he took in the sight in front of him.

The young man, probably a few years older than him, was dressed in a dark pressed suit. White oxfords covered his feet and a pair of glasses was placed on the bridge of his nose. If it weren't for the fact that Robbie had been nearly cut in half by one of his relatives, he would have automatically decked the guy in the nose for making fun of him. That didn't stop Robbie from scrambling away from him and yelling like he was getting gutted again.

"Who are you?" Robbie yelled. The teen surveyed his surroundings and gasped. Was this a library? Rows upon rows of shelves were filled with books and some people were busy bustling around with carts. Clearly, the building didn't look too _threatening, _but Robbie was just murdered. He deserved to be a little paranoid. "Where are we? Am I—?"

"Dead?" The blond asked cheekily. "That would be kind of ironic considering that you're going to be working in my division! Ronald Knox, at your service!" The blond gave the teen a wide smile as he gestured for him to follow. Not wanting to trust the stranger, but also wanting to get some more answers, Robbie reluctantly obliged him.

"What do you mean that I'm going to be working in your division? I haven't applied for anything."

"Of course you haven't. In our line of work, you get chosen."

"Chosen to do what?"

"Didn't the old timer tell you? You're going to work as our new Reaper!"

* * *

In the Undertaker's line of work, everything was an absolute. There were no ifs, ands, or buts. If a person deserved to die, then so be it. If a person wanted to get a cherry wood coffin, fine. If a colleague of yours accused you of jumpstarting the zombie apocalypse, then you had them terminated. However, that didn't prepare the Undertaker to foresee the girl's intervention.

In his line of work, variables were to be dealt with.

Rationally and without any biased emotion.

"My, my…didn't your parents tell you that there are monsters waiting in the dark?" The Undertaker casually asked the young girl. Although he wasn't too fond of brats, especially those who got themselves entangled in paranormal activity, he felt a certain…fondness for this one. The brunette had this energy about her, all chaotic with a dash of curiosity. It was a nice change from young kids who got themselves holed up in a corner with some newfangled device. Still, the girl was out of her nest and presently intertwined within the politics of the supernatural. She was going to ruin everything if she stayed.

Instead of screaming, like he halfheartedly thought she would, she merely scrunched up her nose and started to speak.

"Are you friends with Bipper?"

Taken aback, the Undertaker looked to the demon dressed in human clothing for guidance. It wasn't every day that he found a young girl willing to talk to him. In fact, it wasn't every day that he found a young person with a handy grappling hook either. How interesting, the Undertaker thought to himself. Perhaps, I should help her out and exterminate the demon as well. Perhaps, a few laughs are in my future!

Bill, feeling a little put out that Mabel was paying more attention to the Undertaker than him, shouted, "Well, well Shooting Star! It's nice to see you without that horrible little puppet show of yours!" The demon flashed his teeth in front of this 'Shooting Star' as the young girl glared at him.

She crossed her arms in front of her chest and retorted, "Hey! That was a masterpiece you stupid dorito!"

A hint of a feral smile lit up the Undertaker's face as he heard those words come out the girl's mouth. Now, of all the things that had occurred in Gravity Falls that had to be the funniest thing he had ever heard!

"Demon, I like this Shooting Star."

An uncertain expression passed on Mabel's face. Should she take the comment as a compliment or be fearful that both supernatural beings expressed an interest in her? The brunette bit her lip, but decided to let the matter rest. Her brother was in danger and she needed to ascertain if the white haired gentleman was the good guy. Maybe being quiet could help her out.

"That's great and all," Bill began sarcastically, "but I think you should be more focused on me rather than that little girl."

Screw being quiet. Bill was a jerk.

"Hey! I'm going to be thirteen at the end of this summer!" Mabel called out indignantly. She placed both of her hands on her hips as she gave both of the males a look of complete fury. "And what are you doing with my brother's body, Bill!"

"Didn't I tell you?" A faux look of surprise passed on Bill's face before he laughed at Mabel's enraged expression. "Your stupid Pine Tree didn't specify when the deal was over."

"Then got out of his body so that we can get a new deal!"

"Kid, that's now how life works, but I admire your spunk!"

The Undertaker decided to cut into their situation. Frankly, he found it a bit unfair that he was being ignored. He stalked over to the young girl who was currently tugging at the demon's arm. The demon, on the other hand, stayed rooted on the spot, but the demon looked like he was enjoying the feeling of getting his arm nearly dislocated.

"As much as I would love to exchange pleasantries with you, little girl, I suggest you leave. " The Undertaker smirked at the girl's paled skin when he neared her with his scythe visibly in tow. "I wouldn't want a cute young thing like yourself get put into a coffin so early!"

Mabel gulped apprehensively, but the demon merely shook his head at the Undertaker's antics.

* * *

Robbie stared uncomprehendingly at the blond man.

"Does that mean I'm not dead?"

Ronald blinked at the young man's inquiry before rolling his eyes. It was hard to imagine that he was that stupid and clueless back when he was a rookie as well. It was a good thing that they chose him to do the job because good ol' Spears would have smacked the stupidity off the boy's face.

"Didn't the old timer slash you with his scythe?"

"Er, yeah…why do you ask?"

"Then you're more than likely dead." Once Robbie's eyes darkened, Ronald immediately backtracked. "I mean, your body is dead, but your soul isn't, which is why you're here."

"Does this mean that I'm in heaven? Or something close to it?"

"Sort of. As a new Reaper for our association, you're in the in-between. Limbo. A cushy version of purgatory. That's why you're dead; all training Reapers have to be deceased in order to carry on the legacy."

"Training? Do I have to go back to school or something stupid like that?"

"Now you're getting it! You'll have forty days training with us, but don't worry about tuition costs because—"

"That's like eight weeks! In case you haven't noticed my parents aren't going to take this easily! I bet they're mourning for me—How long have I been dead?" Robbie began to pace like a madman in this strange separate reality as he began to fully look at his situation. Quickly, he rounded on the unsuspecting Reaper and grabbed the blond by his shirt collar. "How long?"

"Calm yourself, Valentino," Ronald warned. The man's emerald eyes darkened in displeasure as he extricated himself from Robbie's hold. Robbie didn't dare do anything more—there was something awfully predatory in how the man removed himself from his tight hold. "I wager that only a few minutes have passed. If the old man hasn't been lying to me, then you're more than likely in bed with your parents making sure that you're all right."

"That's great." Sarcasm heavily accented his voice. "But that doesn't explain—"

Ronald sighed before he took out a few notecards from the insides of his suit jacket.

"Look, for some odd reason the higher ups decided that I should be the one to welcome you. Maybe it's because I'm closer in age physically…and possibly mentally. Nevertheless—please don't interrupt me Valentino, I could make you dead for real…" Robbie groaned when Ronald looked pointedly at him, but the younger man nodded to affirm his silence for the time being. "Anyway, before I was interrupted, I was going to address the issue of your schooling. Apparently, I'm more than sure that the Undertaker has been feeding you a load of bollocks, most of which is an exaggerated truth."

Ronald cleared his throat before continuing. His voice and mannerisms felt like that he had been rehearsing his speech for how knows long. It felt too practiced and too cut and dry for Robbie, but he felt a little grateful that he was finally receiving answers.

"Yes, you have been chosen to replace the old man. Yes, you are dead. Yes, we are all Grim Reapers, Bringers of Death, what have you. And yes, before you ask, you have no choice in the matter. Any questions so far?"

Robbie took in all of the information before shaking his head.

"Good, because this is the part where things get a little baffling. The Undertaker has requested that, and I quote, 'the boy must undertake the necessary education and the training in order to succeed.' And that's all about it."

"If I'm dead, then why do I have to go through school?"

"It's not so much school as going through many trials before you finally get to customize your scythe and go out killing people."

Queasiness entered the pit of Robbie's stomach at that statement.

"Killing…people?" He squeaked.

* * *

Mabel was not the best when it came to situations where she had to be tactful and wary. Dipper was the one who was wary and read the atmosphere. However, pinned between two monsters that may or not kill her…was causing her to rethink all of her decisions. Of course, she would always choose to follow her brother for both of their sakes, but she realized that swinging from tree to tree like Tarzan probably wasn't the right way to go about it. If an animated character can do it, why can't her?

Yeesh, reality had so much double standards, it sucked.

Hmm…If she got out of this one alive, she was going to become president and persecute all of those silly cartoons for being too awesome!

Right now, the two monsters (one in her brother's body and the other some creepy old guy) were staring each other down. Mabel wouldn't be too surprised if Bill had the foresight to carry some kind of weapon on him, but Mabel was freaking out about the old man's scythe. This long range weapon seemed to glide through the air gracefully whenever the Undertaker swung it. It was mesmerizing to see it arc through the air, slicing imaginary foes with one swipe, but it was so deadly. Deep in Mabel's gut, she knew that this little adventure in the midst of many other misadventures was far more deadly than she had imagined.

What would have Dipper done if the roles in this situation were switched? Mabel wondered.

Bill spoke up to break the silence.

"Loved the chat, limey man, but I want you to get out of Gravity Falls. This territory is mine and no one else's." The demon bared his twelve year old teeth and Mabel shivered at the sight. It was like the demon had no concept of human boundaries. The way he just effortlessly stretched the skin so far back, it was all so mechanical and fake. Words could not describe how terrified Mabel felt when she saw that the grin was not only aimed at the Undertaker, but also at her. "And you…I have some big plans so you better leave me and your brother alone if you want to escape out of this alive."

Mabel shook her head. Even though she was outnumbered, she was going to stick by her brother's side and fight for his body. The old man could be a problem, but at the same time he could be an advantage. Likewise, the Undertaker knew that the little Shooting Star must have been wronged in some form or other. Obviously, it had something to do with the little boy the demon inhabited. If he could have some sign that the little girl trusted him…maybe this could push the demon out of Gravity Falls for good…

Quickly, the Undertaker moved over to the girl's side without taking his eyes off of the demon. The situation was highly volatile; there was no way this little girl was going to leave him alone if he didn't protect the boy's body as well.

Bollocks, he wanted to curse.

"Little girl," he simpered, "how would you like to aid me in culling the demon?"

Mabel looked unsure as she took in the darkness that clothed the man. She looked up at his white bangs and stared in shock at the green—no, emerald—that glinted through the white mass. Stuck between a rock and a hard place, there was only one thing that she could do.

She nodded and raised her grappling hook.

"Good. Flying mortal away!" Roughly, Undertaker grabbed her waist with both of his hands (he was careful to not cut her with his scythe) and threw her at the demon.

Yes, this would be an interesting battle indeed.

* * *

Minutes passed.

Weeks passed.

And then his forty days were nearly at an end.

The young teen found himself maturing at an alarming pace. Gone was the petulant teen who valued the 'in crowd' and labels. As the weeks passed, he trained in the art of reaping the poor mortal souls that inhabited the earth. At first, he rebelled against the traditional classrooms, but he quickly adapted to the cool environment and that his teachers were all awesome. They were all trained Reapers who valued quick killing and rational judgment. He had been a little wary about killing people, but he quickly changed his thinking.

He had a few issues with the dress code ("Do I really need to wear a suit?") and that his eyesight exponentially deteriorated during his time there ("Dude…these glasses totally make me look like a nerd."), but he quickly grew accustomed to the adjustments.

Once his testing with the practical portion of the Reaper business was over, the grueling, physical part of it transpired. He had been fairly decent when he was just the average freshman in high school in gym, but he found himself struggling to maintain optimal fitness. Robbie had been forced to work extra hours in order to excel, but his body hardened and his mind sharpened. Pretty soon, he was practically at the top of the class.

"Hmph, sparring again? One might think that you relish being called the teacher's pet," Ronald groaned. "You used to be so fun, then you had to go all William T. Spears on me!" The blond spat out the name half-jokingly as he looked at Robbie's progress report. He had been quickly marking off all of Robbie's accomplishments before he stared at that one final test.

Robbie shrugged at his mentor's blasé attitude before replying, "Anything to get out of here sooner. Besides, I don't like being called a loser by people who think they're superior to me." The dark haired brunet pushed up his rookie glasses up the bridge of his long nose. His green eyes, similar and yet so different from the rest of the Reapers, glinted with hardness. "Am I done yet? This is my last day here. Where's my scythe?"

Ronald slapped him hard with a clipboard before laughing at Robbie's masked eagerness.

"It feels like it's been years since you've died! I'll miss you when you finally earn that scythe of yours." Robbie glowered at the blonde's bold display of affection before Ronald took the hint and finished his speaking. "Your last test is the one that will ensure that you'll get your scythe _if _you pass."

"Bring it," Robbie challenged.

"You Americans and your flair for dramatics. Anyway, you have to observe a person who is about to die and mark them down if you want them to die or not. From your studies, I assume that you know that there are few people who actually get the honor of surviving the judgment of a Reaper."

"Of course. Who is my target? Or is that classified?"

Ronald handed him another clipboard and Robbie looked down at the document before paling.

"It can't be possible!"

* * *

Bill knew that Reapers were notorious for restoring order (which was everything against Bill's philosophy of chaos and fun) but this was completely uncalled for! Here he was, an innocent Master of the Mind and resident Dream Demon of Gravity Falls, and they had just thrown a mortal at him! And not just any puny little human! Oh no, the Undertaker had to pitch Shooting Star as if she was a baseball! Really, he didn't care for the sweater enthusiast, but he could tell that she was taken off guard and that she may have bruised him in places—

"By the gods! Why do the space between my legs hurt to badly?"

Pain was hilarious.

And then there was pain that was _hilarious. _

Shooting Star groaned before she properly pinned him to the forest ground. Although she was a little out of it, her face held a grin and a few chuckles escaped her. However, her mirth faded when she got a proper look at his yellow eyes and slits for pupils. Roughly, she shook him by the collar and yelled at the demon.

"Give me back my brother! And while you're at it, leave the town alone!"

Bill merely grinned at her forcefulness.

"Never, Shooting Star!" A wicked thought came to him and he said, "Oh, and do please keep on tightening your hold on me! I like the feeling of rocks digging into my back and my arms getting pushed to their limit!"

For a moment, Mabel was unsure about her present predicament. She wasn't sure what the old man was thinking, so she continued to hold Dipper's body down. However, she also didn't want to give Bill what he craved. For all their sakes, Mabel hoped that the lunatic would do something before she was forced to do something drastic.

"And to think that you were actually a threat," the Undertaker said patronizingly. He knelt by the little boy's body in a mockery of comfort. Even though his scythe was out of sight, Bill knew that any sudden movements or any spoken threats would result in immediate scythe handling. However, there was one thing that gave Bill the upper hand in this situation. "What do you say for yourself?"

Bill smirked at the Reaper despite the gravity of this situation.

"Funny how you say that when you're not at the top of your game either. Don't look at me like that Reaper! Having a little girl help you capture a demon isn't the best way to do it!" Bill seemed to relax in the girl's hold. "Face it, old man. You're dying and as of right now, you're weak."

* * *

Robbie woke up in his bed as he eagerly gasped for breath. For a second, he thought that everything that had happened was all a dream. As he swung his legs over his bed, he began to notice a few things that were odd. Why was he wearing a blazer? A suit? And did he always wear glasses? He flicked on his bedroom light and surveyed himself. Back in the Reaper's academy, he was forced to abide by the dress code, but he was able to get by with a semi-casual look without grating anyone's nerves. Nevertheless, he still stifled a groan because he was never a fan for the formal.

Once he adjusted to the idea that this was not a prank, he noticed that there was a clipboard on his bed. With a sense of dread, he nonchalantly trudged on over to his bed and flipped open the documents to get a look at his client's name. The spelling hadn't changed and the request to have him die wasn't either.

"Of all people," Robbie muttered. "Why him?"

It didn't matter. Judging from the small scythe that was securely wrapped around his belt, this job wasn't going to complete itself. No matter the consequences or his internal thoughts, the higher ups trusted him enough to undertake this endeavor.

He was not going to fail.

* * *

It was nearly half past one in the morning and the people of Gravity Falls lay clueless in their beds. How could they have imagined that there were supernatural beings haunting the forests of the sleepy town? How could they have known that there many anomalies roaming around their houses, perusing their stores, and mingling with the populace? How could they have fathomed that there was a secret organization bent on erasing bad memories, the gentry cheating the people of their money, and that a masochistic demon was hell-bent on raising chaos?

No one knew.

And no one could have known that there something terrible was going to happen within the forests of Gravity Falls.

Mabel panted from her strenuous effort at holding the demon at bay.

"What are you waiting for?" Mabel nearly screamed at the Reaper. She was the alpha twin, but she was still sleepy, hadn't had her daily dose of Mabel Juice, and Bill struggling wasn't helping her at all. If they were on the same side, then he would obviously help, right? "He's right here! So exorcise him with holy water or something!"

The Undertaker shook himself free of his murderous thoughts and grinned.

"Of course, my dear girl," he exclaimed. "What was I thinking!" He pulled out his scythe from out nowhere and aimed straight for Dipper's head.

Mabel screamed.

Bill winced, but laughed at his impending doom.

Just when the tip of the metal was going to puncture Dipper's chest, a voice rang out in the darkness. A bit gruff and a little whiny at the edges, but there was a trace of authority that made everyone stop in the middle of their actions. As if part of a hive mind, they all turned and stared at the suited figure that drifted through the trees like a ghost.

At first, the figure could have passed for any old person who just happened to pass through the forest. However, when he got closer, signs of recognition appeared on all of their faces.

"R-robbie?" Mabel stuttered in confusion.

"I see you have finally embraced your birthright, Little Dog," the Undertaker chuckled.

"Whatever, man. Get away from my assignment."

The moonlight reflected the glint in Robbie's new emerald eyes, but something else caught Mabel's eyes. When she saw the sickle hanging limply at Robbie's belt, she paled.

"Your assignment!?"


	5. Bonus: April Fools!

**Ten Days**

Robbie stared at the glasses that were offered up to him with a look of disdain. They were glasses that looked like some other person wore them, the lenses were a bit fogged up, and the style was too old! What were they thinking when they stated in the dress code that they weren't allowed to customize their glasses or their scythes until they passed the final exam? Warily, he pushed the glasses back to his personal mentor, Ronald, before looking in the other direction.

"Can't you give me something else?" Robbie petulantly whined.

Ronald sighed before gesturing towards the rookie glasses again.

"Can you give me a few days off? Listen, they're just spectacles. If you don't start wearing them, you'll fail all of your exams. Besides, every rookie wears them." Ronald fervently hoped that his voice was soothing enough for the boy to listen to him. When he was younger, he balked against the idea of wearing the atrocious things (mainly because he knew that this one girl didn't like the frames), but he knew that they were necessary.

Robbie, still a newcomer to this idea that he was virtually a Grim Reaper in training, finally assented. He held out his hand for the old frames before placing it on the bridge of his nose.

"Everyone has to wear these," Robbie groaned once he looked at the mirror. "Dude…these glasses totally make me look like a nerd."

Ronald held back a snicker before reassuring Robbie with a, "Don't worry you look quite dapper. Besides, we have far more pressing matters to attend to."

"Like what? Killing people?"

"No, you need to get fitted for a suit."

A gob smacked expression darkened Robbie's countenance as he looked to the blond in confirmation.

"Do I really need to wear a suit?"

**Twenty Days**

Sometimes Robbie felt the need to murder someone.

This was a thought that he wanted to banish from his mind, but this guy made him want to grab a student scythe and ram it through his head! Freaking William T. Spears and his stupid monotone voice with the superior attitude that would put Robbie's freshman teacher to shame. Just when Robbie thought he was going to have a little fun with this whole Reaper gig, this guy had to nail it in his brain that this was not fun and games! Duh, they were practically elevated funeral directors with cool—

"Mr. Valentino!" Robbie's head snapped up from his notebook, causing painful whiplash. "Do pay attention, this lesson is integral to the practical portion of your test."

Robbie gritted out a melancholic, "Yes, sir."

"Good." William T. Spears pushed his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose with his customized scythe before continuing on with the lecture. "Now, as you can see our main job is to reap the souls of the dying. Can anyone tell me what is our secondary objective if there are no souls present?"

Robbie's peers said nothing. Instead, all of the rookies in the classroom decided to busy themselves with shuffling their papers or snoring in the back of the room. Disappointed with the lack of effort from his students, the stern man picked on the first student that earned his wrath. He pointed his scythe at Robbie and stated, "Mr. Valentino, name the secondary objective."

"Er…record all human souls after initial contact?" Robbie tried to sound convincing that he knew the material, but from the slight laughter at the back of the class, he knew that he failed. Likewise, Spears' face held a look of even more disappointment as if it were possible before he pointed towards Robbie's open textbook.

"Settle down. Mr. Valentino, turn to page 394. There, you will read the second paragraph on the second column; thus, you will answer the question and redeem yourself in the process." Although, he hadn't meant to be patronizing, Spears nearly smirked at Robbie's ears turning red at his directions.

With deliberate slowness, Robbie flipped over to the page and started to read.

"The secondary objective for all Reapers is to protect the human souls from demons. In the presence of a demon, caution must be employed in order to restrain the power of a demon. If you are not qualified to slay a demon, one must evade the presence of a demon, then you are more than welcome to request backup. However, if you have your license, then you must strike the demon before it gets the idea to consume more human souls." Robbie paused in his reading before looking up at his brunet teacher. "There is another paragraph detailing the demon classes. Shall I…?" In truth, Robbie just wanted to get out of the classroom, but he decided to get on Spears' good side for the time being.

"That will not be necessary." William T. Spears looked at the back of the classroom and addressed another student. "Ms. Wood, continue the rest of the passage."

The young woman peered at the page before nodding.

"There are two main types of demons. The first is the corporal demon. These creatures roam the earth in droves in search for human souls. Like most demons, they can create contracts to barter for human souls or they merely wreak havoc within the supernatural realms." The girl paused for a moment before continuing. "The second type of demon, far more powerful than the first, is imprisoned within another realm of existence. Another dimension, if you will. These demons don't have corporal forms. In fact, they used to be human souls before they were corrupted and sent to the other existence. Because of their sheer amount of power and cunning, these demons can't be allowed into our plain of existence without someone summoning it or possessing a body through a contract."

As the young woman spoke, Robbie wrote notes on the subject of demons in his notebook.

"Mr. Beale, continue with the next paragraph."

"Both demons may be destroyed with several attacks from a Reaper's scythe. The corporal demon's body will simply bleed out and decompose like a human. However, in the case of second demon, killing the body will have no effect on the corrupted soul. Instead, one must bind the body's memories to the demon, insuring that the demon will be intertwined with the fate of the possessed body. At this point—"

Robbie tuned the student out as he glanced at his book in disinterest.

When was this going to be handy?

**Thirty Days **

"Oh, ho! My dear! You look so adorable and handsome! If I wasn't so obsessed with my dear little Will, I would have asked you out on a date!" The redhead simpered to the brunet. Unlike the rest of the Reapers, Robbie immediately noticed that this guy was obviously a loony. Dressed in scarlet red and sporting a killer smile, this guy gladly volunteered to show Robbie a good time. Meaning, this guy was going to spar with Robbie for a little while.

"Thanks…Ms. Grell," Robbie muttered in confusion. "I think?"

"Oh, when I was a newbie just like yourself, I used to be so shy and cute just like yourself!" The redheaded man swung his customized scythe (Robbie gulped at the lethal chainsaw) before addressing the teen again. "And I earned top marks for the physical portion of the test!"

Robbie began to sweat when he realized that the man was steadily advancing like a predator waiting for its prey to come. In his hands, a student scythe swung freely from his grip, but the young Reaper in training knew that it was going to take a lot more than a small sickle to take this guy down. The ferocious row of teeth within the man's loony smile said it all.

"Y-you're not going to seriously injure me are you?"

"How cute! Don't worry my dear, I'll make your death quick and filled with red!"

The chainsaw roared to life and Robbie swung with his sickle.

**Forty Days**

Ronald glanced at the pile of paperwork on his desk in frustration. You would think that living in the modern age would have warranted some fancy gadgets and better hours, but no! Stupid Spears and his traditional ways had to get in the way of everything! The blond made his way towards his workspace until he heard a knocking at his door. He trudged back to the entrance before pasting a bright smile on his face. Who knows, maybe a nice lady came to call!

"Hello! Ronald Knox at your—" His face soured when he realized that it wasn't one of his lady friends come to surprise him. Instead, it was his boss. Again. "Morning, sir. Shouldn't you be teaching one of your classes?" Honestly, Ronald could care less, but being polite towards his superior often had its perks. Especially if being polite and helpful gave him opportunities to shirk his Reaper duties or other paperwork. However, his hopes were dashed when his boss nodded and handed Ronald a packet of documents.

"Mr. Valentino has excelled at the academy." Spears remarked. "I commend you on your effort at transitioning him from life as a human to a Reaper."

"Aw! You're making me blush!" Ronald joked. His face became serious, as he looked at the packet of documents in horrified wonder. "I'm guessing that this is his final assignment before he earns his scythe?"

"Correct."

Ronald flipped through the documents before stopping at the client's photo and bio.

"Rather young, isn't he?"

"Too true, but this is a test nonetheless."

Ronald looked down at the documents before sighing. When he had his first assignment, he was desensitized to the thought of death. Living on the bloodthirsty streets of Victorian England did that to poor unfortunate fellows like him. However, Robbie lived in the modern era. There was no telling how the kid would handle his first job. Still, he had to hand it the kid; he adapted quite quickly when he set his mind to it.

"I'll be giving this to him soon," Ronald promised.

"You better," Spears warned. "We need to get that demonic pest exterminated as soon as possible."

* * *

Posted in honor of April Fools, the Bill Cipher AMA, and the GKND Reboot thing. I hope that you guys have a pleasant day!


	6. Dry Remains

When Mabel saw the dark suited figure, she didn't know what to think.

At first, she thought that it was one of her sordid fantasies come to life. Or maybe, it was another supernatural being that might have been on her enemies' side. Nevertheless, when she realized that it was Robbie holding a clipboard in one hand and a sickle in the other, her mind pretty much blanked.

Was this really the same teen who challenged her brother to a fight a few weeks ago?

Was this really the same guy who tried to woo Wendy back to him via a hypnotizing song?

Who was this figure in black who strode confidently into the woods and carried a lethal weapon?

The more Mabel stared, the angrier and scared she became. At that point, she was backing away from all three figures and planning to escape to the Shack. If there was person she could definitely trust, it was Grunkle Stan. Before she could place one foot in front of the other to gain a running start, Robbie turned to her and gave her a chilling smile that didn't look like it was supposed to belong there.

He held out a hand in welcome and muttered, "Mabel, it's good to see you." He walked steadily towards her before saying, "You might want to leave before you get blood all of over you." The gesture, while appearing innocent and merciful, only served to agitate the girl.

Mabel hurriedly shook her head and backed away from his advancing figure. She was more than aware of the crackling sounds of dead twigs and her labored breathing from panic. A hurt look crossed his pale features before he halted in his salutations. Although he had not been expecting to see Mabel confront him (or run away from him for that matter), he acted like it was just another job for him to do.

"What do you mean your assignment?" She, remembering his earlier words, asked worriedly. She still kept edging back to the safety of the shadows until her back thumped against the tree. "Do you mean the old guy or—" Her voice faltered when she saw that the teen had pointed towards Dipper's body. "How is Dipper your assignment? Do you have to write a report on how lame he is or—"

Confusion mixed with wariness overcame her senses.

Suddenly, as if to emphasize how long their exchange was, the yellow hued demon began to clap his hands excitedly.

"Wow, a rookie!" Bill squealed in delight. "Just when I thought that you couldn't get any lower than what you already are, you just had to one up yourself, now didn't you?" Bill leered at the Undertaker before turning towards the young Reaper. "And you, Stitched Heart? Why do you always have to hang with the wrong crowd?"

Robbie stared at Bill uncomprehendingly as the cogs turned in his head. When he saw what he needed to see, he turned to Mabel and observed, "Is Dipper being possessed by a demon?" His face held apprehension and enlightenment dawning on his complexion.

_This makes so much sense now. _

Hesitantly, Mabel nodded her head before she began to speak to him again.

"Robbie, what is this about your assignment?" Her lips quivered and the hand that steadily held her grappling hook also began to tremble. All three males began to panic at the infamous sight of female emotions. "And why do you look so interested in Dipper?"

For once, Robbie's cool composure was broken as he looked at that tearful looking girl. He had been trained to be cold and impartial when reaping souls, but he had not been informed that he would also be witnessing people's input from those who were close to him. True, he could care less about that little brat with the stupid crush on Wendy, but Mabel was another story. She had helped him out when he had no one else to turn. She had managed to stitch his broken heart and set him up with his lovely Tambry. The little girl had done all of those things without batting an eyelash or without any expectation of repayment.

When he had looked at his documents, he had been confused and terrified at the notion of reaping Dipper's soul. The kid looked so healthy and geeky before, so why was he one on the list to be culled? As much as Robbie would love to contact the Reaper organization, he knew that he would be wasting precious time and resources. Over the years, the Reaper organization had been adamant for the need to put the rookies in situations that required quick thinking and impartial judgment. Instead of having a whole month prepare to reap a soul, the new recruits had to undergo the task within an hour of initial contact…which means…

Robbie had less than forty five minutes to solve his moral conundrum.

If all went well, Mabel would be thanking him for exterminating the demon.

She had to, or he wouldn't forgive himself.

"Look, Mabel," Robbie began to plead. He felt sweat stick to his forehead and his black gloves began to feel like a gross second skin. The tension in the air felt unbearable, as if the ability to speak became hard to do. He was already dead, what more could possible happen to him? "It's nothing person. It's more of a–" Robbie faltered in his speech. After a second of quick thinking, he began to speak again. "Like a—"

"I guess they don't make'em like they used to, eh?" Languidly, the demon rested his stolen body against a tree. Eyes, once clear and innocent, were rimmed with malice and imminent destruction. He glanced at the sky's bewitching darkness as he couldn't bear to look at them. "The stupid mortician's dying, Shooting Star is currently falling, and ole Stitched Heart…you might need to change your moniker since you don't need one!"

"I prefer Undertaker," the elderly man replied dryly. "Even so, you are a demon and you know what happens when you start corrupting souls."

Mabel flinched at that statement. Was her brother's soul corrupted? Was he going to turn out like Bill? Eager to learn more about this information, she resolved to stay until she could figure out a way to get her brother back unscathed. In the meantime…she refused to look Robbie in the eye.

"Aw! Come on!" Bill leaped to his feet and dangerously stalked towards the Reaper. "Valid contract and everything, kid totally bought it!"

The Undertaker recoiled from the demon's presence before smiling unsettlingly at the demon.

"Demons don't have valid contracts."

"And Reapers don't have a sense of humor."

Yellow met green. Both were locked in an unimaginable battle of will. Neither of the two planned to back away from this staring contest. Just when Mabel thought she would be subjected to an intense staring contest, the Undertaker whipped his scythe from out of nowhere. Swiftly, the white haired gentleman aimed at Dipper's head. Horrified, Mabel launched towards her sibling, but Robbie reached out to pull her back. Despite himself, the Undertaker stopped a millimeter away from Dipper's nose and began to guffaw manically at Mabel's expression.

In the middle of his raucous laughter, the Undertaker paused to address the young Pines girl.

"The little Star actually thinks I was going to kill the demon! Ha!" The fire in Mabel's eyes faded, but the Undertaker had more to say. "No, the honor goes to the Little Dog!"

* * *

_The young boy felt like something was off. He felt like he was sleeping, but something kept nagging at the edge of his mind. All he saw was darkness; he couldn't even see himself. With a cry, he tried to will some light into his dream, but nothing happened. Weren't dreams supposed to be a vehicle of what you wished? Why wasn't there any light?_

_Again, he asked._

_Why wasn't there any light?_

* * *

Betrayal was something that did not sit well with the female Pines twin. She was a loving individual who trusted so many people with all of her affection. In return, she fervently hoped that those who garnered her affection would do the same to her. However, people betrayed her by backstabbing her or leading her on. While her summer romances may have failed, she thought her friends would have stood by her side not matter what. To know that Robbie was allied with the creep pretty much broke the camel's back.

Ripping herself away from Robbie's hold, Mabel glared and punched him to the ground.

"How could you! I thought that you were my friend!"

Robbie looked away from Mabel's piercing brown eyes, ashamed of what he was tasked to do.

"Fact of life, kid," Bill gleefully exclaimed. "Things live and things die. Fortunately, when ole Pine Tree's soul gets reaped, I get to keep the body free of charge!"

"And that's where you're wrong, Demon." The Undertaker snarled. "The assignment states that are two souls that need to get reaped." One could practically hear the glee that was veiled within his voice. "That's right, you're done here." Undertaker stepped back and gave Robbie a cursory glance, "Little Dog, do be careful. Those glasses cost a lot."

* * *

_He tried his best to think logically for a few seconds. He closed his eyes and opened them up again. It was still dark, but the brunette finally found out a problem he had neglected to notice. _

_His hands were chained._

_Terrified for his safety and the context of his dreams, he thrashed and flailed against his restraints. Despite his valiant attempts, the boy felt the cool metal cut deeper into his skin, leaving what felt to be harsh, red welts._

* * *

One of the first things that they teach at the academy was the stressed importance of the Reaper spectacles. These instruments not only aided the Reaper to see their chosen target, but it also enabled them to observe the Cinematic Records. However, that was not the only function. Not only did it improve the Reaper's eyesight tenfold, but it also enabled them to see how corrupted a soul was. Similar to how a demon scours the world for a pure soul, the reapers were now able to identify corrupted souls (demons). With his forty day training under his belt, Robbie saw what Mabel could not.

A triangle glowed within the boy's body. Every time the gigantic eye of providence blinked, Dipper's eyes would react, but the action was delayed. A shiver of fear ran up and down the rookie's spine when he saw how intertwined Duper's soul was to the demon's. The souls were bound together—reaping was the only option. Robbie had already went through a course detailing demonology—the basics, really. The learning only came from experience, his teachers advised. When the young man saw the way the big bright eye looked at him, he knew.

Robbie had the feeling that this demon wasn't going down without a fight. A grim smile (far too mature and too adult on his teenage face) appeared on his ace. If this was how things were going to end, then so be it. He put too much effort into his impromptu education, he might as well pass. Renewed with battled-infused vigor, the young brunette prepared to kill the human.

Bill observed the teen's anticipating behavior.

Things had just become…interesting.

"Losing your morals already? How heartless can you be?"

Robbie shrugged.

"I'm already dead. What's the point in having one?"

"For a meat bag, you seem to be pretty insightful. You could have been better to deal with than Pine Tree! Who knows?" Bill shrugged before leveling a ghastly grin at the newly recruited Reaper. "It's too bad, though."

A ball of blue-white flame burst from Dipper's clenched fists as the demon inched towards Robbie. Realizing that his target was no longer speaking in monologue, Robbie tucked his clipboard into his suit jacket and revealed his student sickle.

* * *

_He heaved long and labored breaths as he thought of ways to get out of this situation. After much contemplation, the boy ventured to pinch himself, but was rewarded with only more pain. Wasn't that how people got themselves out of a dream?_

_Alarmed, the young brunet fell lightly onto his back._

_When was he going to wake up?_

* * *

Mabel watched, mesmerized, as she saw how skillful Robbie swung his weapon. The way he moved gracefully in the forest…it was like he was a ninja straight from her world history textbook. The young Reaper effortlessly swung his sickle, always dodging the demon's ropes of fire. Thoughts of how cool Robbie looked ran through Mabel's mind. How did he move that quickly? Where did he learn how to block the tendrils of flame threatening to burn him? And most importantly, what was his mission?

A cool, deathly presence approached Mabel from behind. Hesitantly, the young girl glanced over her shoulder to see the Undertaker leaning against the handle of his scythe as if it was a can. He had been observing the fight with neutral eyes, but he turned towards Mabel when he realized that he had an audience. With startling accuracy, (how could he see her with his bangs obstructing his?) he turned towards her.

"Mabel, was it? The night chill might send you to an early grave. Go and get some rest, lamb."

"And why should you care?"

Carelessly, the Undertaker shrugged.

"I don't really care. You can die whenever you like. It's just that the paperwork and viewing your Cinematic Records isn't how I usually spend my evenings." He yawned to emphasize his point.

Knowing that the old man knew more about the situation than her, Mabel began to ask a question.

"What's the whole mission about?"

"And why do you want to learn more about the secrets of the Reapers? Knowing the forbidden things that are kept from regular mortals could be unwise."

Mabel crossed her arms and walked towards the Undertaker. The young brunette had on an expression of one who was desperate and willing to do anything for those she loved.

"Tell me."

"As the little Star wishes, it is my command." The Undertaker took in the look of impatience Mabel had for him, the look of longing for her brother, and the uncertainty and fear aimed at the Little Dog. "Quite simple, if you actually use that brain of yours to think it through. Mr. Valentino is here to kill the demon inside your brother."

"Really?"

"Yes, by killing your brother."

The sheer jubilation that filled Mabel's interior being instantly faded when she heard those words. She backed away from the chuckling madman and turned towards the fighting duo. Both supernatural beings were still battling each other with their distinct styles. Bill's was prominently defensive, even if the sudden bursts of white and blue flames said otherwise. While the demon had plans for the future hanging in the balance, he didn't particularly care for the outcome. He just needed to stay alive. Meanwhile, Robbie was trying to work in an offensive strategy. Unlike the demon, he had everything to lose. He may have just been dead for a short amount of time, but he didn't want to get his own soul reaped.

"How is that better," Mabel screeched. She made as if to charge into battle, but she found herself restrained. The man had barred her from entry by blocking her path with the blade of his own scythe.

"I didn't say it was better. I only explained the details of the mission." He affectionately ruffled her hair while the girl tried her hardest not to flinch at his cold touch. "Isn't it grand?"

Mabel shoved herself away from him, her brown eyes blazing in fury. She stalked towards him and began to punch his chest as she demanded, "Do you think this is funny? My twin is going to get brutally murdered by a friend!"

Unfazed by the swift pounding on his chest, the elderly Reaper merely took both of her hands and forced her to look into his emerald eyes. And for a few terrifying moments, Mabel could see how dangerous the man truly was. She could sense the raw power his viridian eyes housed. She could sense the strength and anger of an undead man. For a few seconds, Mabel was entranced by Death.

"As a former Reaper and instructor, it wouldn't be prudent for me to interfere." He held up a hand to tell the young girl to listen carefully. "However, there might be some hope for you yet…" His voice trailed off as he looked towards the fight, a corner of his mouth lifted in glee.

Without a word, Mabel left his side and charged into the fray. Just before she was about to run out of earshot, the Undertaker shouted one last thing.

"Self-sacrifice looks good on any resume!" He spotted the brunette falter in her step, but she continued nonetheless. "Hehe, the plan just gets easier and easier."

* * *

_And then, suddenly, the young boy felt his body burn. It started out as a tingling sensation, but it quickly great into a fiery inferno. The young boy clawed at his restraints, screamed for anyone to help him! His body felt like it was getting eaten alive and his mouth slowly became dry. _

_After what seemed to be an eternity spent on suffering, the boy felt his body go slack and the fire go out. Still a bit wary of what torture still awaited him, he kept his eyes wide open and body tense._

* * *

Robbie's attacks began to grow even more uncoordinated and desperate. His standard issue sickle was able to cut through the demon's blue fire just as easily as it would cut through Cinematic Records, but Robbie knew his attempts were futile. Once he advanced towards the demon, the teen would be faced with another wall of fire that would threaten to engulf him. Not only that, but the demon would also create clones of himself to taunt Robbie and run amok. It had taken all of Robbie's willpower not to lose concentration.

If he allowed himself to lose sight of what he wanted, Robbie would have missed the deadline. Speaking of the deadline…Robbie allowed himself to check his wristwatch before his jade eyes widened in disbelief.

"Unbelievable," he muttered. "Only five minutes?"

While Robbie looked like he was about to raise Cain, Bill was having the time of his life! Sure, he was wasting his energy on the mortal plain. Sure, his body smelled like a ten year old dumpster. Sure, he felt like he was about to explode into a million pieces, but it was great! Stitched Heart was so entertaining and strong compared to the twins. Because of the young man's ingenuity and stubbornness, Bill idly wondered why he didn't choose him to be his vessel…

Snapping his fingers, the demon extinguished all of his magical flames. Confused, the teen was about to run towards Dipper head on before Bill stopped him with ribbons of fire.

"How about I cut you a deal, kid!" Dipper's maniacal looking eyes seemed even crazier than before. "Do you really want to live your life mucking around with the bureaucratic red tape? It'll give you grey hairs before you can say 'immortality sucks!'" Bill held out Dipper's hand for Robbie to shake, but Robbie refused.

"I have a job to complete."

Bill decided to change tactics.

"But what about Pine Tree, eh? Don't you feel a little sad that you're going to lose one of your chums?"

Robbie's hand tightened over his sickle's handle. He was still resolute in his decision. What little trace of humanity Robbie had was wiped away when he was in the academy.

"I have a job to complete, demon. The kid would happily give his life knowing that he was getting rid of a demon like you."

Bill was ready with a snappy retort, but Shooting Stars were not very polite.

"No," Mabel interjected, "he wouldn't, Robbie."

If it weren't for the menacing presence of the demon before him, Robbie would have turned around and shooed Mabel away. However, he could only keep his eyes on Bill and make sure that he wouldn't harm any civilians.

"Mabel, you don't know what you're talking about. As for you," Robbie turned towards Bill, "die!"

Taking advantage of Bill's sudden confusion, Robbie launched himself at the boy's body. Robbie was so swift and so determined, the teen felt that he was flying over the outstretched roots of the forest. Time seemed to slow as his dominant arm was sailing through the air, his bloodthirsty sickle in hand. This was it, Robbie felt himself think belatedly. He was going to destroy the demon. With a beastly yell, he leaped forward once more to strike at the boy's heart.

"Die!"

Robbie felt his arm fall forward in a slicing motion. His sickle gleamed in the moonlight. The metal sang of its future flesh that was to be cleaved. However, pride fell from Robbie's face as he felt his sickle slice not just through the frail body of Dipper, but—

"Grappling hook," Mabel muttered weakly.

* * *

_Dipper Pines opened his eyes. _


	7. Skeletonisation

Pain.

That was all he could feel.

When he opened his eyes, the world became distorted and so alien that Dipper began to feel like he was still dreaming. However, as the pain continued to grow exponentially, the young boy let out a mighty scream that resounded throughout the area. Colors, sounds, and blurry images encircled him and drowned the brunet with an intensity that he had no idea had existed. As the world stopped spinning, Dipper took in his surroundings and gasped at what he saw.

The trees looked like they had been burned by a fire that consumed and ravaged the entire area. The vegetation and the wildlife seemed to flee from the destruction; the night air was polluted with the scent of smoke and curiously…death. As much as Dipper would like to investigate the cause of the forest's destruction, the brunet looked towards the people who happened to be there as well.

His deep brown eyes swept over the forest clearing, and he saw that there was a strange figure, almost hidden in the shadows of the clearing. Long, moonlight hair flowed gently in the early morning breeze. The figure looked like he came straight out of Mabel's fantasy novels, but Dipper shook his head free from those thoughts. He definitely did not need to think of this stranger in that way. Anyway, he took in the ebony robes and withheld a shiver of fear. Something was not right about this man…and it had everything to do with the scythe that swung freely at his side and the bangs that mysteriously covered his eyes.

The stranger noticed that Dipper was watching...and then he laughed.

For some odd reason, Dipper had the feeling that this stranger was laughing at a joke that no one knew the punch line to. It was slightly unnerving because the laugh was so high pitched and keening—the laugh of a madman.

Dipper's observations didn't stop at the elderly stranger. The young boy looked straight in front of him, and his insides curdled in hostility and fear. The Pines twin took in the look of shock and horror that pervaded the teen's complexion and Dipper began to feel like something terrible had happened. Of course, the look of the forest and what appeared to be a supernatural creature cackling in the darkness already tipped him off, but there was something…immensely troubling. Robbie was visibly shaking, but that alone didn't halt Dipper in his tracks.

Although the twelve year old had never seen the teen look so upset, the young boy didn't want to question why Robbie looked so distraught. No, it was the fact that Robbie held something sharp in his hand…and that it was dripping with fresh blood. The scent of iron and organic substances permeated the area as Dipper breathed deeply. The overwhelming smell almost caused Dipper to drop to his knees and heave, but he remained resilient.

"Robbie…" Dipper began with a murmur. His voice felt rough and scratchy, as if he was yelling for quite some time. Dipper swallowed some saliva to wet his throat in an attempt to lubricate his voice. He began again. "Robbie, why are you here?"

The teen shook his head in dismay. As the older boy did so, tears dribbled down his cheeks, causing Dipper to take a step back in shock. He had never seen a boy cry, much less a teen one! Why would he be crying? The young boy involuntarily took a step forward in an attempt to get some answers about Robbie's sudden despair, but something squishy squeaked underneath his foot. With a cry, Dipper stepped back and looked at the ground.

The blood.

The overpowering aroma.

The chuckling, smiling man.

The horrified look in Robbie's eyes.

"W-what happened!" Dipper shrieked as he fell onto the ground. His hands, scratched and burnt, lifted the frail body against his chest. However, a stinging sensation hindered Dipper from his efforts to cradle his sister. He abruptly halted in his movements and he came to a horrifying realization.

"I—I'm sorry…Dipper."

Dipper gently placed Mabel on the forest floor and checked his chest…His hands came out covered in blood…

* * *

Bill was in a slight predicament. You see, he wasn't used to the mortal plane. In fact, he might even go as far as to say that he detested having a physical form; he quite liked teleporting with ease and floating above others. However, he still had plans concerning the bombastic and irritating presence of the Time Baby, the future and imminent destruction of humanity, and stealing margaritas from bars. (That last part was going to be top priority, but he found the Pines to be too annoying to ignore.) Back to the matter at hand, Bill didn't like the feeling of getting his subconscious getting squashed underneath the kid's paranoid mind.

Bill had his fair share of paranoia and fear from other individuals he had tormented in the past, but he was kind of surprised by how emotional the kid was acting. As Bill took in Dipper's mindscape, he could feel the terror and the heartbreak within the walls of this reality. Bill could see Dipper was hyperventilating, his mouth felt dry, and the feeling of wooziness permeated Dipper's mind. These were the types of effects that came with having a physical form. Bill detested them all. Seriously, having emotions were like having giant weights getting strapped onto your neck—they got in the way of things.

Languidly, the dream demon extraordinaire walked through the trembling walls. Human minds were places that he frequently visited, especially if he wasn't invited. Sometimes, he ruthlessly wrecked these feeble human attempts to be something _other_, something _bigger_ than their fleshy, meaty selves. The obnoxiously yellow triangle had to hand it to the mortals, though. Their shared resilience and stubbornness to be something more only ended in pain and destruction—oh, and much fun for other immortals like him.

Had he ever mentioned that human beings were so fun to humiliate?

Because they were oh so easy to manipulate.

Right away, Bill knew that Dipper's mind was so much easier to navigate than Stan's decrepit little shack. Instead of doorways saying 'keep out' or wooden doors barred with hundreds of locks, Dipper's were filled with riddles and ciphers. In fact, Dipper's mindscape was a lot more like a maze hidden within a dark forest. Bill instantly chuckled at the layout inside of his head. Geeze, this kid was a lot more pretentious than he let on, eh? Nevertheless, Bill Cipher practically invented the little ciphers and cryptograms that dominated the boy's maze. It may have been problematic and tiring for lesser beings to solve all of the small riddles and codes, but Bill felt himself relaxing.

All of this…all of this was predictable and a touch boring for him.

With a tired sigh, Bill paused in the middle of his musings and just pounded through Pine Tree's protective barriers that shielded enemies from his mind. The yellow triangle knew that the kid had been experimenting with magical charms and runes. While the kid may have been smart enough to start doing that, he had not deigned to tattoo himself with a special rune…like Stan. But whatever.

One by one, the barriers that protected Dipper's mind from demons like him fell away until he saw Dipper's mindscape self huddled in a corner. The boy shivered and mewled in his fetal position while Bill looked on in silence. Hn, what was Pine Tree doing?

The yellow triangle floated over to the young boy and began to speak.

* * *

Robbie couldn't believe it. He had actually killed someone! The exhilaration quickly withdrew from his body to be replaced with a bottomless sense of dread. However, he felt a small piece of himself die when he realized that he reaped the wrong soul. Mabel… he wasn't supposed to kill her…no! He felt his hand's grip on his student issued scythe fall onto the ground. The dull thud did nothing to awaken the young Reaper from his stupor.

"W-what have I done?" Heavily, he fell onto his knees. His eyes did not leave the horrified expression that plagued Dipper's frozen expression. Was this how Reapers lived? Was this what they meant when they said to remain impartial and indifferent towards their victims? The teen felt his body convulse and writhe internally as he saw black and white images fly out of Mabel's body like a fountain. The effect was so mesmerizing, but so morbid. He was watching her entire life go by…

"I remember my first time." Robbie looked away from the entertaining memories and into the emerald hues of the Undertaker's eyes. The man, unaffected by the sight, let his clawed fingers twist in Mabel's bloody, matted hair. At the gruesome and appalling sight, the brunet felt bile rise up his throat—the vile liquid scorching his esophagus. Roughly, the younger man took his superior's wrist to stop him from defiling the young girl—he even brandished his blade to stop the older gentleman. "Hn," the man thought shrewdly when he saw Robbie's pathetic attempt to stop him, "I could easily take your life for your insolence."

Robbie shook his head.

"You won't. You need me."

"And what makes you so sure about that, Little Dog?" The Undertaker's teeth, already an unnerving white, shown eerily through the darkness. "A dog that has outgrown its usefulness gets euthanized."

Robbie blanched at the cruelty, but his similarly shaded eyes hardened.

"Why Dipper? Why Mabel? Why?" Robbie found himself cut off as strips of movie film grabbed him by the throat. Struggling mightily, Robbie tried to squirm out of the strip's hold. However, the Cinematic Records only strengthened their hold on the young Reaper. After much training in the Reaper Academy, he saw what Mabel's soul was doing.

She was fighting for her life.

A grim smile made its way onto Robbie's pale complexion as he struggled within Mabel's hold. Even now, she didn't fail to amaze him. However, that doesn't mean he was going to take it like…a little dog.

* * *

"Catatonia doesn't suit you! I prefer it more when you're screaming," the triangle announced.

Dipper turned away from the writhing strips of Cinematic Film holding Robbie and glared at the offending demon. Geeze, you would think that the kid would show a little more respect for him! Sure, he might have possessed his body without explicit permission, but it was just a worthless meat-sack in the first place! Bill shook his head. Humans and their misplaced priorities.

"What's going on here? Where am I?"

As usual, the brat was demanding.

"Come on, Pine Tree," Bill chuckled. "Use that big brain of yours to get the big picture!" The demon abruptly whirled like a dervish in the middle of the air. Within seconds, Dipper found himself facing a grotesque rendition of the famed Mona Lisa. Blood dripped from her enigmatic smile, her eyes were tinted a sickly yellow, and the background was filled with bright, garish hues of dandelion yellow.

Despite the need to back away from the painting, Dipper processed what the giggling imp had told him. Bill always left clues for him to solve. There must be something hidden in the conversation! The boy was great at listening, but nothing piqued his interest. What did Bill just say to him? Picture? Catatonia? Dipper shouldn't be catatonic unless…

"I'm in the mindscape!" Dipper yelled in revulsion. Quickly, he turned around, fully expecting to see Stan's shack. However, his face suddenly blanked when he saw all the ciphers and locks that filled the unconscious dimension. "No. It's my…mindscape."

Bells whistled and horns blared in excitement in a show of Bill's praise.

"'Bout time for you to piece it all together."

"But that means…" Dipper began to slap himself repeatedly.

"As much as the sight of your trying to injure your translucent form amuses me," Bill began dryly, "I just don't see the point." Again, Bill's form changed from the horrifying rendering of Mona Lisa back into his triangular shape.

"Shut up!" Dipper yelled. He found himself pacing back and forth in his mindscape. If he had a pen, he would have been fiercely chewing the writing utensil; the ink would have exploded from the tension and force. "I'm still awake, but I need to be conscious to help her out!" Tears brimmed and fell from his deep brown eyes as Bill watched in amusement.

The demon twirled his cane in the air as he watched the young boy try to bring himself into the real world. Bah! What was so great about the third dimension anyways?

"What's the big deal, Pine Tree? You're just a copy of the Shooting Star. If she goes, there's nothing to miss." A ripple formed in his body as the young pre-teen punched the demon through the bow tie. Ah, violence. How he loved it so. "Judging from your needless attempts to silence me, I can guarantee that you're way too close to her. What's so great about having a sibling anyway? Seems like a waste of time letting a copy of yourself live."

The words sunk deep into Dipper's soul, but he had to get to his sister. He trusted her and in return, she trusted him. Bill was just a crazy demon with no sense of a moral compass. His body felt bruised and bleeding from Dipper's self-harm, but he still wasn't awake! Why wasn't his body reacting in the real world? His eyes felt like he was taking everything in. His ears were faintly registering the screams of fear from Robbie and the victorious cackling from the Undertaker.

"Ambience."

"What?" Dipper felt so bewildered that he paused in the middle of his self reflected torture. Just what was this triangle going on about?

Sighing as if the conversation he was bout to pursue was too tawdry; Bill reclined in the middle of the air.

"All your five sense are contributing to the atmosphere while you're stuck inside your head. The mindscape." The demon swung his cane, not caring that the object backhanded Dipper a couple of time. "Besides, even if you wanted to head back out there, you can't."

With the power only known to Rumble McSkirmish, the young boy took hold of the cane. As the cane was roughly wrenched away from the demon's body, his arms also fell away. The scene would have been considered comedic, but Dipper was having none of that. Instead of laughing, the lad pointed the cane at Bill's body in an attempt to look threatening.

"Bill, you get me out of here." He stated boldly. For a second, the boy hesitated, but he hardened imperceptibly. "Let's make a deal."

* * *

"Why do you to his," Robbie snarled. His scythe was making quick work of the Cinematic Record's strands, but he still struggled. When one strip was eliminated at least ten more would take its place and render Robbie useless. As Mabel fought for her life in her near comatose state, the memories were becoming more vivid and clearer; the old timey filmstrips became defined and colorful. Her memories were like a wave that threatened to pull him under. "Mabel's innocent!"

The Undertaker clucked at the teen's insistent whining. He had ventured to the scene with a jaunty hop in his step. The man's disregard for the girl's life enraged the young man.

"Answer me!"

"Robbie, I think you know why the young lad has to be eliminated."

"Look, you old geezer," Robbie imperiously commanded. "Tell me why before I—"

"Before what, my dear boy? You're caught in the girl's Cinematic Records, no one to aid you…you're all out of luck." The Undertaker practically danced within the area of the girl's weapon to stay alive.

"How are you doing that," Robbie groaned. He was aghast that the superior Reaper had dodged the Record's strips and that it seemed like he was dancing to an unknown melody. The dance was mesmerizing and Robbie nearly cried out in envy.

"You know, Little Dog, there is a reason why we usually bar our students from reaping their friend's or family's souls. Do you want to know why?" At Robbie's hesitant nod for knowledge, the Undertaker plowed forth with vengeance. The Undertaker grinned. "The feelings of family and friends are greater than your average client. Dearest Mabel thinks you betrayed her; she hates you. All trust she had for you is gone. That is why she is fighting you."

Horror dawned on Robbie's face as he processed the implications of that statement.

"No," Robbie breathed out unevenly. "No…she knows me better than that! She wouldn't fall for your tricks!"

"Nuh-uh, uh!" The Undertaker joyously sang aloud. "If my antiquated eyes didn't deceive me, I could have sworn that you were the one aiming that scythe of yours through her body…"

"I was aiming for her brother! I'm a Reaper, it's my job!"

The old man let loose a barrage of terrifying giggles as he coldly regarded the writhing young man.

"Ah, but wouldn't it have been prudent for you to have explained the situation for her…or at least have comforted her?" The Undertaker shrugged. "Seems to me that you're pinning the blame on someone else."

"No, it can't be true!" Robbie struggled even harder against his bonds. "The only reason I had to kill Dipper was because—"

"But did you really read your assignment, Little Dog? Reapers are supposed to examine their clients to see if they should live or not. Have you been slacking in your academics?"

"Of course not! It's just that there is rarely a circumstance—"

"But that still doesn't excuse you, now does it?" The Undertaker quickly cut in. "You didn't take into account the extraordinary circumstances in the situation. You failed to take note that there was an overemotional bystander ready to take action, and that there was a demonic possession taking place right under your nose." Robbie's face fell as he sensed the final nail in his coffin. "Do explain yourself now."

Robbie felt his already pale skin become stark white under the pale moonlight. His muscles were heaving with exhaustion and his body felt sticky with sweat. However, physical sensation didn't compare to the sense of turmoil that roiled in the pit of his stomach. Robbie felt the pressing urge to spew the ungodly pile of bile at the back of his throat.

"And what of you!" Robbie choked out. "As a Reaper, you should aid me because I'm still new! At the very least, save Mabel. We weren't supposed to reap her soul tonight!"

The Undertaker paused. A shrewd smile played atop the corner of his lips.

"My, Little Dog…it's not just the demon's influence that has influenced me…the little boy has influenced me as well."

* * *

"A deal, eh?" If the demon could smile, his face would have been stretched thin. Languidly, the demonic triangle floated closer to the boy so he could take a closer look at him. He took in the boy's determined face, the brightness of his soul, and his mouth watering innocence. This meat-sack was more than willing to let him take his precious body! But of course, Bill mentally chided, there had to be a deal. "What can you do for me, Pine Tree?"

As much as Bill would have enjoyed the look of confusion or some uncomfortable action, the boy merely stared at him before pointing at his translucent self.

"Take my body. Do what you want. Just…take care of my sister. Make sure she survives."

"What a tall order and an even better deal than what I had in mind." Bill floated closer to the boy's form and held out his stick-like hand; flames erupted from his palm in an eerie glow of light blue and white. "Think wisely, young sapling…is this really what you want?"

For a second, Dipper hesitated as he thought about what he should do. For most of his life, he spent much of it under Mabel's wing. He never really made friends outside of Mabel's circle of influence and more often than not, he was always subjected to her every whim. She was selfish, arrogant, proud, and a general annoyance. She was that blinding white star that scarred his retinas and blinded him for days. And yet…she always protected him. Loved him. Inspired him to work harder and be someone more than that younger, weaker twin brother. She was the ray of hope and Dipper hoped that one day he would match her both in radiance and the love that she had shown towards him on many occasions.

He would sacrifice himself for his sibling…even when it meant…

The young boy smirked before raising his own hand in preparation to shake Bill's.

"You want my body?" Dipper clarified.

"Come on, kid! It's not like you need it anyway." Bill rolled his eye at the boy in annoyance. Geeze, humans and their need to justify their actions and existence. Honestly, it never made sense to the eldritch abomination. "So, what do you say?"

"All right then…you can have my body. But you can't have my mind, personality, soul, or my memories…only my body."

The almighty being glared at the young boy as he thought over what the young boy had just said. The young brunet was getting at something…there was an air of trickery and deceit in the air. That was no fair! If anything Bill Cipher should have been the one tricking him! Despite wanting to review the details of their transaction, impatience got the better of Bill has he shook his hand in the air.

"Whatever, whatever…you gonna shake or what?"

Dipper smirked and grasped Bill's enflamed hand once.

"Deal."

* * *

Robbie looked at the Undertaker with a look of consternation.

"What do you mean, young boy?"

The Undertaker smiled all the more as the cogs in the teenager's brain began to turn. Bits and pieces filtered into the brunet's mind as he began to think of what little boy would gain the attention of both a demon and a reaper. And then, he began to realize something.

"Dipper! What does the kid have something to do with this?"

"Use your brain, Little Dog! Who else investigates the oddities of Gravity Falls? Who else had contact with a demon and was possessed? Who else would learn more about demons and ways to stop them?" At every question, the Undertaker walked closer and closer to Robbie. The smile that was on his face kept on growing wider and wider until all Robbie could see in the pale light of the full moon was the two rows of glimmering white teeth. "Who else, dear Robbie?"

And then it hit Robbie like a freight train.

"You planned all of this," Robbie screamed at the Undertaker. His tight grasp on the handle of his student issued scythe became even tighter. The frightened look on his face became even more severe as he tried his hardest to find a reason why this relative of his could be so twisted. "Mabel's death, Dipper getting possessed…you planned it?"

"As much as I would like to take credit for all of this, I can't. I just merely planted an idea in the young man's head." The Undertaker shrugged his shoulders like he was truly sympathetic to the tragic event of the evening.

"And what idea was that?"

In response, the Undertaker pointed to the young man that was also in the clearing. Up until that point, Dipper was just staring into space, but now a bright glow encompassed the young child. White and blue flames erupted from his hands, his eyes were flowing with an unnatural yellow aura, and the wind blew fiercely in the forest. All of a sudden, bright runes and symbols filled the area and suddenly, the forest wasn't filled with the hues of dark purples, blues, and blacks. Instead, Robbie was astonished to see that the forest was straight up monochrome. The blood that adorned Mabel's visage was pure ebony: her skin, alabaster.

Robbie was so taken aback by the sudden appearance, he managed to break free from Mabel's grasp and fall forward into the ground. The flames that surrounded the brunet grew higher and higher, seemingly scorching the trees, but nothing was singed. The flame also grew in heat and intensity; Robbie worried that he was positively soaked with his sweat. As the young man scrambled backward to evade the strangely hued flames, Dipper began to chant in some crazy language. The tongues of long forgotten peoples flowed straight from his mouth and it haunted Robbie's brain. There was something so surreal and eerie to hear some strange mix of Latin and metal screamo coming from a preteen.

Minutes passed and the flames receded into small flickering members. Still a bit wary of what was to occur next, the young man stayed away from Dipper. The boy in question stood tall, as if he wasn't the cause of a spectacular explosion of power and demonic essence. Finally, the boy opened his eyes and smiled at the scenery in front of him.

"My, my…it is good to be back!"

* * *

No, Robbie thought. No, this can't be happening! His grip on his scythe, already tight, became even stronger—if it were possible. His chest heaved quickly, his vision was rapidly losing focus. Robbie was…he was… He was hyperventilating when he heard Dipper speak! Except, Dipper didn't speak like that.

Individual strands of hair stood on the back of Robbie's neck as he listened to the demonic sounds that flowed from Dipper's tongue. It was like listening to those classic films where they had those aliens speak in English, but it was always weird and garbled. That's what Dipper was; he was no longer human…he was something else altogether…he was so _alien_.

_Demonic_.

Dipper began to walk—no, he glided—over to the Undertaker and Robbie. Power and the embers that spewed bright white light followed in his wake. If they weren't stuck in this monochrome world, Robbie was sure that the small embers would have transformed into flames and ate the forest whole. Or, as Robbie tensed in apprehension at the close proximity between him and this…thing, the world have been turned to ash.

"W-who are you," Robbie stammered. "What have you done to Dipper?"

"What do you mean, what have I done?" His smile was just teeth. His eyes held secrets that Robbie had no hope of ever knowing. "Don't you recognize me, Robbie?"

Dipper glided forward and floated upward so that he stared Robbie down.

"I am Dipper."

"B-but you're a—"

"Demon. That's what I am now. A cold blooded demon."


	8. Burial

As Dipper's words entered Robbie's ears, the newly recruited Reaper felt his stomach rock climbing his esophagus. Food that he had eaten hours prior ached to erupt from his mouth and onto the ground. As much as Robbie would have loved to respond to nature's beckoning call, he found that he could not. In fact, he had the distinct feeling that if he dared regurgitate his contents, the…demon thing in front of him would probably kill him.

(He was still dead, but he quite fancied the Reaper lifestyle).

Instead of talking or opening his mouth, Robbie remained silent as he took in Dipper's…new-ish form.

"What?" Dipper smirked at the young man. "Since when were you so quiet? Disappointed that I'm still alive?" Dipper mocked.

Robbie couldn't bear to respond. The dark haired male found himself observing the preteen as he floated up and down. The entire effect looked cartoonish and completely harmless, but Robbie was too well-trained to let his emotions rule him. His palms glistened with sweat and he knew that his hair was uncomfortably stuck to his skin like glue.

Robbie was terrified.

Robbie started to blubber incomprehensibly, saying, "H-how is this possible? Dipper is that really you?" In order to remain safe from the demonic being, Robbie began to edge away from the brunet.

However, it seemed that the preteen had already foreseen his actions. As Robbie tried his best to get away, Dipper snapped his fingers and a jet of fire surrounded the young man.

"Stay where you are, Robbie. Besides," Dipper crooned, "shouldn't it be obvious?"

The young brunet spread his arms wide as he advanced even closer into Robbie's personal space. His eyes were noticeably wide with false innocence, his whites were dominant with the color of spoiled egg yolks. Robbie tried his hardest not to cringe from Dipper's forced entry into his personal bubble, but he could not stop a repulsed shudder race down his spine.

"Ah…you don't like me this close don't you? I guess you don't like a _demon_ staring you right in the eye, holding power over you? Do you?"

Just when Robbie was about to retort with another statement, the Undertaker stepped in. Even in the darkest of shadows, the glittering emeralds signifying his Reaper status gleamed. A knowing look was in his eyes.

"Ah…it looks like you took my word for it. Your enthusiasm and willingness to taint your soul reminds me of another young boy." The old man winced in pain or hunched over to gasp out a few chuckles in memory of that poor boy. "Alas, my mind has been long gone and I can't remember his name…" The white haired man chuckled again as he approached the two young boys. "Perhaps this outcome is far more favorable than his contract."

Dipper looked at the Undertaker with unhidden disgust. Whether if it was from the demonic being's influence or not, Robbie couldn't tell. He had never seen a face look so cruel and cold—it was a face of a person who had been through so much. Just what was this kid up to over the summer?

"Hmph…I guess in the end you were reliable…That says a lot."

"So, what are you going to say?" The Undertaker simpered dramatically.

"I suppose I should thank you…but that's a bit much for a crook like you." Suddenly, Dipper snapped his fingers and huge flames erupted from around him. It took a lot of willpower for Robbie to stand firm on his feet instead of running away with a tail between his legs.

"Come now, don't you feel proud that you have the power of the world at your fingertips, all the knowledge that you could ever want?" A snakelike smile appeared on the older man's face, but Dipper remained unfazed. "Don't you feel accomplished that you have finally vanquished the nasty little demon under the bed?"

As the exchange took place, Robbie tried to piece together everything that had been said. Although he wasn't known to be overly intelligent or observant, he knew enough to realize that these two knew each other. But how? And how did the demon disappear like that? Did the demon consume Dipper's soul? Both the questions and the stress of his rapidly souring mission messed with Robbie's mental processes. It was getting to the point where he thought that his brain was going to explode!

Never mind, he was going to cut to the chase.

"Stop acting like you know each other so well!" Robbie roared exasperatedly. "Give me an explanation already!" He pointed to the demonic child. "How is that even possible? How do you know each other? How did you get rid of the demon? And aren't you going to do something about Mabel?"

Dipper turned away from belittling the Undertaker to bore his already piercing gaze into Robbie's scared eyes. The yellow sclera did nothing but highlight Dipper's lost humanity. A thousand and one reasons to hate the black haired Reaper flashed through those inhuman eyes. The cold grasp of fear held Robbie down as he waited for Dipper's next few words.

"Ah yes…How did it feel to kill my sister?"

Robbie blanched.

"I swear, that was completely a mistake! I was just aiming—"

"For me, right?" Dipper chuckled as he finally let himself lower onto the ground. His face smirked as he extinguished the blue flames that encircled his being as he looked up at Robbie. "You know, I never really liked you. Did you even properly read the documents?"

"You're a demon," Robbie roared at Dipper. This was getting out of hand. Of course he read the documents! "If the procedure actually progressed within normal circumstances, then we wouldn't be in this mess."

Thoughts raced in Robbie's mind as he tried his hardest to figure out ways to right the wrongs in this situation. Surely, Dipper's body and soul were forfeit now, right? It appeared that this wily demon had taken control of all of Dipper's faculties (both physical and mental). Nonetheless, as Robbie tried to make sense of the situation, even more problems began to arise.

For one, Mabel currently struggled for her life and none of the Reapers or the demon present actively decided to help. The mission was quickly worsening and as a former teenager and newly recruited Reaper, Robbie had no idea what he was going to do.

"Little Dog, I'm afraid that you aren't as perceptive as you thought you might be." The Undertaker cut in. The older man strode into the middle of the fray without looking like he cared that he was interfering in what was probably going to escalate into a warzone. "That creature you see before you is no demon." At Robbie's bewildered expression, the Undertaker continued nonchalantly. "At least, not entirely."

"I guess that you're not as daft as you make yourself seem, old man," Dipper sneered. He walked forward and grabbed Robbie by the collar. Considering that Robbie was basically a titan compared to the preteen, it was a near feat to have achieved that simple motion in less than a few seconds. "Considering the fact that you had no idea that Dipper was actually going to make the deal with Bill Cipher."

The demonic entity breathed the name of the triangular demon with so much hatred that Robbie felt the urge to curl up on the ground in a fetal position. However, a sliver of confusion sliced through him. Was that Dipper speaking just now?

"Ah, but the plan worked!" The Undertaker cried aloud.

"What plan?"

"To destroy Bill Cipher, of course!"

Robbie's face fell with such an intensity that belied his ignorance to the situation.

"Can't you see that the demon has taken over—"

With an exasperated sigh, the young boy interjected, "Shut up. Please. I already told you…I am Dipper."

"But you're a demon!" Robbie yelled. His fingers were flexing as his mind reeled from what his companions were telling him. (Which was pretty much nothing). "Isn't the Dipper we know gone?"

"Not exactly," The Undertaker replied as he spun around in a drunken circle. "He's…what did the little girl call you again? Bipper? Yes," the old man decided to himself, "such a childish name. However, I cannot deny that it fits."

"Indeed," Bipper—was this really his new name, Robbie wondered—conceded wrly, "old man. Despite the pleasantries, I suppose that we should finally clear up why we needed Robbie."

"Yes," the teen retorted angrily. "Please tell me why you need me! It looks like you got everything under control, you old bag."

"Hee hee, it looks like you take care after Spears; nevertheless, I will tell you. First things first…"

A pause.

"I'm going to die tonight."

* * *

Robbie could have eaten a mouthful of flies—his mouth was just that wide. Did he actually hear that correctly? A part of him doubted that his ears were actually functioning, but another part of him latched onto the grave tone in the Undertaker's voice. The old man _never _had a solemn expression on his face. This was beyond serious. If no one was careful, someone was going to lose his or her life.

"Pardon me… but what did you say?"

"Ah, for once the Little Dog actually displays manners. How intriguing," the old man simpered to himself. "But alas, now is not the time for games. I will make myself clear once more: I am going to die tonight."

"But you're a Reaper! How is that poss—"

"Fool," Dipper seethed in disgust, "don't you want us to live? Mabel?" The young boy continued on without waiting for an answer, "In order for us to survive the night, one of us has to exchange his life. Thus, the world will be restored and balance will remain present." Dipper continued on. "I thought you weren't fond of the old man."

" Don't get me wrong—I'm not on his side. It's just that…" The goth teen wracked his brain for an explanation, but came up with none.

" You still have no idea what has happened, don't you?" Dipper mused. "I guess you could say that the evil demon has now been vanquished."

A blank stare.

"Come now! Did you really think that I, Dipper Pines, would actually succumb to the power of Bill Cipher. I'm not that stupid. You see….the tale began a few years ago…"

* * *

"—_heard some things have been happening back in the States."_

"_What have they been up to this time?"_

"—_all of them pasty little things—"_

"_Can you believe that there's some creature terrorizing the west?"_

_William T. Spears looked weary as he passed through the corridors of the Reaper Headquarters. The rumors about the progress of the American Reapers (or lack thereof) were spreading throughout the building and William was hard pressed to stop them. Unfortunately, he was in a hurry and he only managed to send a few glares to a few of the newbies. _

_His footsteps clacked the pristine floors of the building as he bypassed many doors and hallways until he made his way to one room in particular. With a sigh that betrayed his reluctance upon entering, he bravely pushed his spectacles higher onto the bridge of his nose and entered the room._

_From wall to wall, shelves filled with books dominated the area. Filled with knowledge, the tomes rested in their cozy alcoves as they each silently waited for someone to pick them up. One of these books, an old weathered journal sat in the lap of one weathered old man._

"'_Bout time you arrived, Mr. Spears. I was beginning to think that I came for nothing." The Undertaker peered through his alabaster bangs, levelling a look at the Reaper. "Then again, it's not like anyone does anything here."_

_The strict brunet ignored the man as he ruffled some papers in his stack that he held in arms. Numerous articles detailed the happenings in the States, but William did not refer to them. Instead, he chose to lay all of the documents on a separate desk in neat, alphabetized piles. Then, they both waited. _

_Not too long after that, another man walked into the room. Like the others, he wore a suit and a pair of spectacles adorned his fare. Unlike the other two, however, the man had an abhorrent need for red. Obnoxious and gaudy, his fashion sense clearly preceded his reputation as a Reaper. Immediately, Will felt the need to walk out of the room, but he had to stay. After all, the United States Division of Reapers did not always ask for help. It was a miracle to know that the Americans still had a shred of humility._

"_Ah, Will! It is a good thing you're here! I was beginning to think that I was actually going to attend a drab meeting!" The redhead tried his best to grasp Will's waist in an effort to greet him with more intimacy, but the Reaper shrugged his subordinate away from him. Because of this, Grell bumped onto the desk with the meticulously organized documents. Despite his pedantic tendencies, Will inwardly assured himself that it was worth it. _

"_No need to be uptight," the Undertaker snickered to himself. One of his fingers traced a few worn words in his book as he listened to the head Reaper scolding the redhead for misconduct. "Besides, love doesn't come easy for people like us."_

"_See! Even the old man here agrees with me!" Grell Suticlff tried to reason with William. _

"_Enough. We are here to discuss the situation in the United States. Apparently, there's been an outbreak of demonic activity upon the Western coast. Areas targeted are the states of Washington, Oregon, and some parts of Canada. Reports from the resident Reapers there confirm that the activity has been building up in power and enormity ever since the beginning of summer. While the activity itself has been troubling, the Americans say that this type of behavior has happened before."_

"_Really?" For once, the ginger Reaper actually looked invested in the conversation. "This looks like any mission we get here. Why can't the Americans deal with it themselves?" Grell whined petulantly. _

"_What matters is that the perpetrator of a major rise in activity is due to only one demon. One." Will took a deep breath to calm himself down. He was appalled and scandalized to know that his American associates were so incompetent. "Interestingly enough, we don't even have the demon in question properly categorized in. our files. The only name we can get is Bill Cipher."_

_The Undertaker grabbed a piece of parchment from the book he held, an expressionless look on his face._

"_So then… it appears that he's back. How unfortunate," the man mused to himself. "Gentleman, it appears that we have more than just a demon on our hands."_

_Both of the other Reapers were confound by the Undertaker's sudden statement. Under any other circumstances did they ever think that their former superior would ever become serious. For Will, this was a good development; for Grill, utter dread._

"_Then," Will began, "what are we dealing with?" Uncertainty and doubt was quite evident from the way he fingered the hem of his tailored suit. For a man who prided himself on order and tranquility, he became edgy when faced with the unknown. _

"_Well, you can rule out angel and demon. No, what he is far more powerful than the two of them combined. He is a god."_

* * *

"What?" Robbie couldn't help but gasp. "A god?"

"You've been confronted by the reality of Reapers and demons. How are you shocked that there is more to this universe than what meets the eye?" Bipper muttered.

"Like what the half-breed is saying, he is a god. A universal being with the power to hop universes and dimensions by will. Naturally, this planet decided to classify him as such, but the term is far too vague."

"Hmmph… You're one to talk old man. You are no longer a part of the organization, but you still identify as a Reaper. Care to explain?"

"Love to, but time is going to run out."

* * *

"_A god?" Will found himself echoing. _

"_Or something close to that regard." The Undertaker replied. "I have heard of him from several of my past clients. He has been known to make deals with people; notably, the Northwests of Gravity Falls."_

"_And you didn't tell us because?"_

_The Undertaker carelessly shrugged._

"_I thought that the Americans had this whole thing sorted out….Bill Cipher allegedly disappeared a few decades ago. However, that brings up another question."_

"_Yes," Grell agreed. "Why haven't the Americans haven't done anything about this influx of activity?"_

* * *

"So….why haven't the Americans done anything?"

"Oh, with all the political unrest, natural disasters, and the fact that an overpowered creation from the depths of the void tried to overpower humanity… there hasn't been any Reapers on duty. Besides, the bureaucratic red tape there is completely annoying and nonnegotiable."

Now that that some of this ridiculous nonsense had been completely sorted out, Robbie found himself at a loss for words. Honestly, how was he even supposed to react?

"So you're a god then, huh…"

"Dream demon extraordinaire was more of my style, but it fits."

"Not everything fits, "Robbie said hesitantly. "Why did you need me? It seems like you got everything under control. Kind of seems illegal to have someone (a teenager) be part of the Reaper organization."

"Trust me, it is. But, kid… Little Dog… Robbie… you were vital to the entire operation. In this world, you can only give and take, which segues into another part of the conversation: my retirement…"

"Dude, I can't take your job or anything! I mean, what do you mean-"

"Reapers retire by dying, Robbie. When the organization sent me here to assess the situation for myself, I knew that this was going to be my last stand. You are going to make a fine Reaper. I know it, and you know it." The older Reaper smiled ruefully. "Maybe one day you'll be talented to do this …"

"What?"

Strips of film and splashes of color filled the forest area as the Undertaker plunged his scythe into his stomach. A mighty wind blew through the forest as the Undertaker concentrated on his work. Robbie's mind screamed for his superior to stop, but there was nothing that he could do. A small part of him knew that the old man had his mind already made and that this was for the better. As the young man watched, the energy spewing from the Undertaker's body spilled forth onto Mabel's struggling form. Moments before, her body lay still from her past efforts to live, but now her chest rose up and down in a rhythm that instantly told Robbie that she was going to be okay.

Pretty soon, Mabel's body began to heal and all of her memories drifted back into her body. It was beautiful to watch. Hues of all colors splashed onto the world with their vibrant liveliness. Pictures of various memories lit up the area, nearly blinding everyone with their radiance. Tension eased off Robbie's shoulders when he saw the rest of the film return to their owner.

In stark contrast to the joyful scene, the Undertaker stood ramrod straight, the blood poured freely from his body. While he visibly shook from the stress of the pain, a small smile of pure bliss rested on his face.

"Check your clipboard," the Undertake rasped.

Robbie did so. On top of his sheet, instead of the notice to eliminate Dipper Pines, someone clearly printed the picture of a young man with snow white hair as the profile picture. The heading produced a name that was written in a language that Robbie couldn't every have dreamed of understanding, but he instinctively knew that it was the Undertaker. Underneath the name, there was a box that read 'stamp of approval.'

For the first time in Centuries, the Undertaker laughed for joy.


	9. Afterlife

The moon slowly disappeared from the sky, the sun began to make its appearance known, and the two young men stared in awe at the new day. After the initial shock wore off, Robbie turned to Dipper, something akin to terror and awe nestled in his eyes. Meanwhile, the young demigod hovered over his sister with a concerned look on his face. The telltale signs of stress transformed his face from an innocent twelve year old to something centuries older. While Robbie felt the urge to have it out with the demon, he grudgingly admired the brunet for his loyalty towards Mabel.

"Is she all right?" Robbie asked tentatively. "I truly am…sorry—so very sorry."

The young boy looked up from his worrying over his beloved sister to smile happily at Robbie, the bright yellow hue was nearly gone. Dark brown with a tinge of impurity met Robbie's dark eyes without hesitation. If Robbie was stunned at Dipper's sudden transformation from freak of nature to a preteen, he didn't show it.

Dipper shook his head lightly. "You did what you had to do. I can't fault you for that. Besides, I was still kind of infused with Bill's essence and—" he looked bashfully away, a hand awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm still kind of new to the endless knowledge and power surges."

The two talked for a while Mabel still slumbered in the eye of the story. The smell of ash and smoke pervaded the air, but both were confident that the forest could rebuild its former glory and level of mystery. As the rays of dawn caressed the evergreens and lit the vegetation, the young Reaper began to understand.

He was the likeliest choice to deliver the finishing blow because the supernatural creatures used the portal in Gravity Falls to infiltrate the human world. Thus, the portal and its unruly infiltrators gave Robbie special traits to withstand the demon's aura. It also didn't help that his great-great grandfather (a once famous Reaper) sired his bloodline. (Thank God it wasn't the Undertaker).

While the blood of the Reapers lay dormant in the Valentino family, they were still highly susceptible to supernatural happenings. When Robbie's parents caught wind of the demonic activity, they contacted the American Reaper Organization, but the problem was slowly transferred over to the British side of things for bureaucratic reasons. The plan was for someone to make contact with one of Bill Cipher's preferred vessel on the mortal plain. Because he wasn't a demon—more like a reality warping entity with a god complex—the Reapers had to interfere. If this was an ordinary, run of the mill nuisance, then it would have been left in the hands of the Americans.

Since the Undertaker already had a firsthand account to Bill Cipher's power, he was sent on a reconnaissance mission to investigate. If he was able to take action and exterminate the demonic entity, then more power to him. Once he saw that there were only two people who seemed viable to stop Bill Cipher, the Undertaker proceeded to interview Dipper and Robbie. Almost instantly, he knew that they were going to be perfect for their assigned roles—Robbie as a reaper and Dipper as the future demon.

Once the Undertaker collected all the information that he needed, he made sure to tell Dipper to make a deal with Bill Cipher. The deal was that Dipper would specify that he wanted Bill to have his body, but not his mind and soul. Therefore, when Bill reentered his body, Dipper's consciousness remained behind. The two spirits battled for dominance and…

"Looks like I'm partially demonic," Dipper muttered. Bitter disgust coated his tone like dried, congealed honey. Still, the boy was satisfied that things ended the way they had. "The Undertaker said that once I regained control, my body would slowly disintegrate, leaving behind massive energy. I'll be just like Bill Cipher given time."

"How long have you got left?"

"With the power that Bill had, the Undertaker gave me until the end of the summer."

* * *

"Bro…this is so cool!" Mabel waved her hands around excitedly as she surveyed her brother floating ten feet off the ground. A gaping hole fluttered with the stay wind; it was a testament of what occurred only a half hour prior. "You're like a superhero now! Definitely an improvement."

Mabel turned towards Robbie, eyed his blood stained suit, and hugged him.

"W-what?" The teenager was slightly reeling from the sudden contact, but the female was giggling with contagious mirth.

"You look great in a suit! Plus, you're totally cool and have powers just like Dipper!"

Both supernatural creatures shared a laugh before looking up at the rising sun. This was a reaction that they hadn't expected, but they were glad that had someone on their side. In the days following this incident, there was going to be so many questions, but they were both willing to take them on.

* * *

Years passed and Dipper grew into his own as his demonic powers matured and strengthened. He was no longer human or even corporeal anymore. His parents, after having realized that their son was allegedly 'dead,' held a funeral for the young boy, but his sister fervently believed that he was still alive despite her parents' best efforts to give her psychological help. After all, he trailed after her, trying his hardest to become human once more. Years passed and both twins matured and parted ways.

Mabel, like the creative woman she had become, set out to explore different parts of the world, her lust for adventure never far too behind. Meanwhile, Dipper returned to Gravity Falls to soak up the demonic energy that remained in the area.

Again, years passed and deals were made and Dipper threw away his old name in favor of a new one—Alcor. Named after one of the twin stars in the Big Dipper, his name became sacred and some people began to whisper and chant his name in the dead of night. All were hoping to curry his favor and make a deal with him.

Like his predecessor, Dipper was very shrewd and tempted his contractors with beguiling words and stunning powers.

* * *

Robbie loved his job. He grew closer to his parents and he matured into a fine, young man. Like most supernatural creatures, he could not age. In order to not attract any attention—even though most of the townspeople were complete idiots—he faked his own death and attended his own funeral.

It was a great turnout.

* * *

Like most things, they grow, evolve, mature, and finally…die.

"Did you finally say goodbye?" The Reaper rested his back against the door as he stared down his natural enemy who was hunched over the frail body under the homemade quilt.

The air was chilled and a slight breeze whistled past the open window. Even when she was an old lady, Mabel preferred to live life in a careless manner, citing that she would rather have the cold air caress her body instead of letting her young grandchildren run the AC. Truth be told, the elderly matron had already known that she was going to die in the night and something told her to keep the window open. She had muttered to herself that it was her 'twin instincts' acting up again. Her family, well-meaning and slightly concerned, chalked it up her instincts to her senility and sentimentality.

Nevertheless, her young brood responded with varying levels of hesitancy, but they complied with her last request.

The demon scoffed as he brushed brittle strands of snowy hair away from Mabel's mottled complexion.

"Of course I did…I just…"

This was a sigh that made Robbie want to look away from the mourning demon. He already knew what it was like to lose loved ones. After all, he had reaped the souls of many of the Gravity Falls townsfolk, including his parents and many of his friends. As a Reaper, he was no stranger to death. The scythe he held in his gloved hands, the scythe that the Undertaker managed to leave behind, had destroyed many memories and sent many souls back to where they belonged. Not many people fought against him, but there was some damage dealt to the gardening tool.

"You've got some time left," Robbie offered. His hand was poised over a clipboard, ready to mark down some additional notes about the current situation if need be. "I can extend the time, but I already have her stamped for collection."

"I thought you were a stickler for rules," Alcor joked. "You being a Reaper and all."

Robbie shrugged, but a pang of sadness pierced his heart.

"Hers is a great soul. She'll be up for reincarnation in a couple centuries."

"Can't wait."

"Me too."

With the go ahead from Alcor, Robbie steeled himself before placing his shovel deep into Mabel's heart.

She passed without a fuss.

Alcor left in the early rays of morning.

Robbie was left to observe Mabel's family crowd around, crying.

It was time to leave.


	10. Thank You

To my Guests, Nordicsmagic, ShallowGrip, Phoenix010, and lyridsca:

First of all, I would like to thank all the reviewers, the followers, and those who favorited. This story was something that I made up on the fly, and while some of the chapters stagnated in the middle of the planning process, I can say that this was a great turnout. Anyway, this was sort of based off the Transcendence AU that you can find on Tumblr, and I just had this little plot bunny that included Robbie and the Undertaker. The idea began to take root and here we are.

Of course, this is my first multi-chapter crossover fanfiction that I actually finished (yay!), and I want to thank you all again for joining me on this eventful ride. This is certainly not my best work, but I would love it if you all reviewed one last time and give me some constructive criticism on what I need to work on what I did well.

Until the next time,

Cheers, Devin Trinidad


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